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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967267">Just Trying to Go Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperrTsuki/pseuds/HyperrTsuki'>HyperrTsuki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Carl is the only one with working braincells, Gen, Ghostbur and Wilbur Soot are Different People, Good Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Kintsugi Technoblade from totem, Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Not Canon Compliant, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), THAT ONE TOO, Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Needs a Break, TommyInnit Has Wings, TommyInnit Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, forgot to add that one, he's trying his best, sbi boys, there is blood, they all just need to take a nap, tommy swears regularly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:42:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29967267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperrTsuki/pseuds/HyperrTsuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Technoblade had escaped his execution by the skin of his teeth. He took Carl and he ran, ignoring the pain that covered every inch of his body and choosing not to mention the golden veins that had split through his previously damaged skin. He just wanted to go home but life always had a different plan for him. </p><p>Following a sudden trail of blood in the snow, Techno comes across a familiar face, suddenly responsible for the recovery of a loudmouthed teen. He thought adding one more person to his house made it overly crowded; he pretended like he wasn't thrilled when two more showed up.</p><p>Recovery was a long path, that was for sure.</p><p>__ </p><p>Or: Tommy gets lost in the woods after escaping exile and Techno (it was really Carl) finds him and takes him back to heal him up. Everything snowballs from there and Phil and Ghostbur decide it was a wonderful time to visit and plan the destruction of an entire nation.</p><p>Warnings for: language, blood and slight gore, mentions of trauma and all of that stuff</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>727</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Caught in the Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! I was in a writing mood so I whipped this up over the past few days! I'm not sure where the kintsugi-techno came from but I honestly love the idea and I'm here for it! So here is a short story of a few of my favorite tropes in an sbi fic since I crave this stuff. Canon is particularly painful right now so I am writing some fluff. Well, this chapter doesn't have much fluff but the next one will. :)</p><p>So here you go! Enjoy! ~~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saying the day had been long would be the biggest understatement of the century. He was drained, gripping the leather reign with the little strength he had left so he had an anchor. He wasn't sure if it was the exhaustion bearing down on him or if it was the impact of the totem rapidly healing his body, but he felt as if he could collapse at any minute. </p><p> </p><p>"Almost there, Carl," Techno murmurs, eyes squinting against the onslaught of wind, a blizzard on its way into the area. He would be home before it hit, surely. </p><p> </p><p>Despite nearly dying (did he die? He wasn't too sure how the totem worked, but he knew it hurt like <em> hell </em> ), Techno was in one piece. He chose to ignore the dried (or was it frozen?) blood sticking to his short fur, coating his face. When he first opened his eyes after he regained his consciousness he could remember the blood stinging. There was so much blood but there wasn't a wound anymore. Well…there <em> was </em> a wound, but it was hidden by the pink, unkempt hair that he desperately needed to tie back but he was just almost executed and now he was stuck on the edge of a blizzard and he couldn't be <em> bothered.  </em></p><p> </p><p>It wasn't a natural wound at all. Where it would normally look like a huge gash or dent because an <em> anvil </em> was dropped on his head, golden, spider web-like veins snaked out from a center point that was hidden in his hair. He didn't have time to <em> examine </em>it since he was too busy saving his own hide, but in a quick reflection he was able to pick out in his escape he couldn't say he was too surprised. Totems were still quite mysterious to the land of the Esemp. They weren't studied since they were so rare. All that was known about them was they allowed the wielder to dodge death one time before it shattered. </p><p> </p><p>A particularly sharp, cold gust sliced through Techno and Carl, the stallion and the hybrid both releasing a grunt. Techno brought his scarred hand up to remove some of the long hair that had gotten tangled in his tusks, taking his eyes off of the path for <em> one second.  </em></p><p> </p><p>In that one second, Carl let out a sudden neigh, throwing his head back as if he was startled. Techno scrambled to grab at the reigns again, eyes widening as he saw Carl's nostrils flare, dark eyes focused on something through the snow that Techno couldn't yet see. It was too dark, the moonlight cloaked by the heavy layers of the storm. The whipping wind didn't do anything to help Techno pick up on a scent, either, much to his annoyance. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey! Hey, calm down," Techno said, reaching forwards and stroking part of Carl's exposed neck, his diamond armor clattering together as he sidled away, tail flicking anxiously and ears swiveling as if he was trying to listen for something that was too far away. "What's got you worked up?" </p><p> </p><p>The sudden way that Techno was being jostled around on the saddle wasn't sitting well with him. The dull ache that was passing through his head in waves quickly turned to lighting bolts of pain, causing him to wince and grip at his tender scalp, hissing. He wasted no time throwing his leg over the other side of the saddle and sliding off, Carl's reigns still in his hand as he tried soothing the spooked animal. The storm was so thick that no mobs would have been able to see them. What was freaking him out? </p><p> </p><p>"Easy," Techno cooed, moving to the stallion's front and reaching out a hand to stroke his velvety nose. Worry entered his red gaze as Carl's nostrils still flared with every heavy breath he took, snorting and grunting as if he was trying to say something in horse language. "I don't understand you, Carl. We are almost home. Come on, just a little bit longer and we can both rest."</p><p> </p><p>It had been an eventful day for the both of them. Techno could only wonder what it was like for Carl, being separated from him by strange people that Techno held <em> clear </em> disdain for. He was held in a <em> hole </em>only to be grabbed by yet another stranger and brought to a new place where a battered and bloody Techno found him. </p><p> </p><p>"Sorry about today, but we have to keep going," the hybrid murmured, lightly tugging on the reigns to try and bring Carl forwards. The stallion only pawed at the ground, kicking up even more snow before he lifted both of his front hooves off of the ground and swiped at the storm raging around them. His teeth were grinding on the bit in his mouth and Techno's ears flicked at the sound. <em> Why </em>was he so worked up? </p><p> </p><p>"Carl! Come <em> on! </em> Stop throwing a fit! Let's-" Techno's words cut off as another gust of frigid wind slammed into him. He lifted a hand to block the snow from his face, Carl pausing a moment to turn his own head away, his mane whipping in the wind like Techno's. It wasn't the sudden gust that made him pause, though. There was a <em> scent. </em> And it <em> lingered.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Techno's flopped ears perked up a little as he strained to hear anything over the grunts and whines of his stallion and the howling wind swirling around them. "Is that…blood?" </p><p> </p><p>Gaze slowly turning to the snow at his feet, Techno's face twisted into a frown. It wasn't from him. It was like this was displaced, the wind picking it up and whisking it away to somewhere else. It was as if Nature was trying to cover someone's tracks. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Blood!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Blood for the Blood God! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Kill! Murder it! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Find the source! Blood!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> That's not good… </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Violence! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ah, right. He had almost forgotten about the voices. They had been competent since he had made his escape. Of course a little bit of blood would set them off.</p><p> </p><p>Techno's eyes darkened as he huffed, rolling his shoulders before he took another step forward. "It's probably just a wounded animal. Chill."</p><p> </p><p>Carl thankfully moved with him. He still had a wild look in his eyes and he would careen away with every small burst of wind that would wash over them but at least they were moving again. The trees were beginning to thin out as well and he let out a sigh of relief as he saw the first torch mounted on the trunk of one of said trees. It's flame whipped around and thinned into almost nothing as the wind threatened to carry it away, but it would not go out. </p><p> </p><p>Techno would always pride himself with the way he was able to mix Nether materials with Overworld materials to create forever-lasting torches. He was <em> always </em>smug about it. </p><p> </p><p>With the light from the flickering torch, though, came the sudden ability to see much more of his surroundings. The blood from before appeared almost broken, the trail leading nowhere in particular. It was as if the animal had been running in circles to try and escape the blizzard that was about to engulf it. </p><p> </p><p>Techno found it strange that there was a lack of any animal tracks. The wind could have easily wiped them out of existence but the blood would have been covered with it. And this looked fresh. It <em> smelled </em>fresh. </p><p> </p><p>With every step he took in the direction of his house, the louder the voices got and the more skittish Carl would become. What did the voices in his head know that he didn't? He didn't dare question Carl's intuition. That was a no-brainer; horses were extremely intelligent. </p><p> </p><p>A spike of irk flooded through Techno at the sudden strain on the reigns once more and his steps stopped as he deadpanned, "I will leave you out here in the snow to fend for yourself, Carl. We are <em> almost </em>there." </p><p> </p><p>The horse firmly planted his hooves into the ground and resulted in staring down the piglin, his beady eyes focused on Techno with such intensity that it almost made him squirm. </p><p> </p><p>"What do you want?" Techno tried now, unease detected in his usual dry tone, eyeing his horse as if to figure the animal out. If only Carl could speak. "Is there something you want to show me?"</p><p> </p><p>The horse seemed to pause for a moment before bowing his head, popping it up and bringing it back down a few times as if to point to something on the ground. Techno followed his movements and noticed more blood. A frown was set on his face, then, and he went to open his mouth to say something but was cut off by Carl nudging his nose into the hybrid's side, pushing him in the direction parallel to his house. </p><p> </p><p>Shoving aside any comments he had about just wanting to go <em> home, </em> Techno decided to take the time to actually <em> look. </em> Carl was smart…perhaps smarter than Techno, but only by the smallest amount. He must have been set off by the blood but no one was out here! It <em> had </em> to be a wild animal. A big one. There were <em> a lot </em>of blood splotches in the snow. </p><p> </p><p><em> What predator can injure such a huge animal out here? </em> He murmured, scratching his head and using his arm as a shield against the wind that was sending flakes of snow into his face. It felt like pins and needles. His fireplace was waiting back at his house, too. It would be so easy to just <em> walk </em> and <em> ignore </em>that any of this was happening-</p><p> </p><p>A loud whinny from Carl startled Techno out of his thoughts. Both of them slowed their pace and their eyes were cast back to the ground. More blood. <em> A lot </em> more blood. And, this time, there were <em> tracks. </em>It was fresh. </p><p> </p><p>"This…isn't an animal," Techno murmured, crouching down to peer at the footprints in the ground. It was human and it looked like they were on the taller side, their feet slim but long. </p><p> </p><p>Who the hell was bleeding out in his forest? </p><p> </p><p>Floppy ears straining to hear anything over the vicious howl of the wind, Techno was only slightly cautious to continue on. He only had to take three more steps before Carl reared up, snorted, and ripped free from Techno's grip, hooves slamming back into the ground as he rushed forwards, passing through the veil of snow that Techno couldn't see past. </p><p> </p><p>A surprised yell escaped the piglin as he surged forwards, bringing a hand up to his face to protect his eyes from the needle-like particles. He thankfully didn't have to go too far, Carl's dark coat reappearing through the storm. </p><p> </p><p>"What the heck, Carl?" Techno sighed, trying to ignore the sudden voices in his head, each of them howling at him. They wanted blood. They wanted <em> revenge. </em>It was difficult to not want to feel the same but his confusion kept them at bay for the moment. "You can't go running off like-" </p><p> </p><p>Words died in his throat as he froze his movements, hand on Carl's flank and red eyes trained on a figure standing before him. Well, they were more <em> slouched </em>than anything, hands gripping the thin sheet that was being used as a cloak. They were very unprepared for the weather. </p><p> </p><p>"H-Hey, Blade…Techno…Technoblade," a familiar voice greeted. The piglin's ears flicked and, despite his stoic expression as he stared down the figure before him, his mind was a raging hurricane. His head hurt. His entire <em> soul </em> hurt. He was ripped from the clutches of death mere hours ago and now he had to deal with <em> this? </em>"W-What brings you to this…this fine part of the forest?" </p><p> </p><p>"What are you doing here, Tommy?" </p><p> </p><p>The lanky boy flinched at the tone, hand resting against Carl's nose. The horse had calmed down tenfold after finally finding what was causing him distress. There wasn't an immediate reply, much to Techno's annoyance. Tommy's hair had grown quite long and shaggy. He wasn't sure if it was because of the snow melting on his head but it looked greasy and nearly matted. Not much was seen under the black sheet that was used to conceal his shivering body but Techno took in that he was missing a shoe. How? Was this kid <em> that </em>irresponsible? </p><p> </p><p>"I don't…know where I am," Tommy admitted after a long moment of silence, the screaming wind and the howling voices in Techno's head the only thing filling the quiet void. </p><p> </p><p>"You look like crap," Techno then said, only realizing that Tommy did, in fact, look quite horrible after he said it. His face was much sharper than it was before and a few bruises were seen on his exposed skin. There were some inflamed cuts on the arm that was stretched out to pet Carl and Techno's stomach twisted at the sight of it. The kid was skin and bones. He looked like he had just escaped death. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Techno would have found that funny if he, in fact, didn't just escape death himself a few hours prior.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Thanks," Tommy snarled, a sudden fire igniting in his dull, blue eyes. When did they get so dull? "You look quite great yourself. I love what you did with your face; it really brings out the traitorous pig."</p><p> </p><p>Gritting his teeth, Techno rolled his eyes, hand never leaving Carl's hide. He was missing something. The voices were telling him that he was missing something but he wasn't sure-</p><p> </p><p>"Why are you bleeding?" </p><p> </p><p>Techno blinked at his own words. Right. How had he forgotten the wonderful trail the child left for him to follow? He tried not to dwell on the fact that there was <em> a lot </em>of blood pooling around Tommy's feet at the moment, melting the snow before it froze over completely. </p><p> </p><p>"None of your business, big man," Tommy growled, giving Carl a few pats before taking a step backwards. He nearly hit the trunk of a large spruce tree and Techno noted the way his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. He didn't like being cornered now, huh? "Now…Now that I know <em> you </em> live here, I'll go in the opposite direction. Far, <em> far </em>away from you, dickhead."</p><p> </p><p>"Sounds good," Techno deadpanned, grabbing Carl's rein once more and beginning to tug the horse away. He was met with a startling amount of resistance. "You might want to go now if you don't want to be slaughtered by mobs the second you leave the cover of the light."</p><p> </p><p>He didn't notice the way Tommy used the trunk of the tree as balance for a moment as if to catch his breath. He did notice, however, the lack of a response and he turned his hard gaze back to the kid only to see him using the palm of his hand as an anchor on the tree as if trying to not fall over. </p><p> </p><p>"Tommy?" Techno asked, a frown suddenly twisting his face. The kid barely spared him a glance as his eyes rolled back into his head and his legs gave up under his weight. Techno was too startled to even try to catch him, the snow softening his fall anyways. Carl was more than displeased with this, though, and let out a very loud whine, panic rising in the horse before it rose in Techno. </p><p> </p><p>And, oh boy, did the panic hit him like a sack of bricks. He stumbled forwards, hands out as the voices began screaming. He had to do something or Tommy would freeze to death out here. And he did <em> not </em>want that on his conscience despite how much of a pain the kid could be. </p><p> </p><p>Gritting his teeth as he reached down to scoop up the boy, he faltered at the weight. He weighed <em> nothing. </em> And <em> something </em>was missing that wasn't just a few pounds. </p><p> </p><p>With a hand behind his knees and the other against his back, Techno practically cradled the unconscious teen to his broad chest as he began the short journey back to his house, his pace hurried. It was then, with his hand against Tommy's back, that he realized what was missing. </p><p> </p><p>Techno nearly dropped the kid at the realization, red eyes widening as he barely registered his house coming into view, Carl thankfully following behind, nudging Techno along with his nose. </p><p> </p><p>Panic was overtaken by shock which was then washed away by disbelief. There was no way…the way the blood seeped through the thin cloth and coated his hand…it <em> had </em>to be from something else, right? His mind was just being nuclear as it always did when the voices got too loud to handle. </p><p> </p><p>The collective fury of the voices in his head made his hands shake as he made his way up the steps to his house, practically kicking down the door before gently placing the boy on his freshly cleaned table just around the corner in the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>He wasn't supposed to be able to lay on his back like this. It wasn't physically possible. But, as the boy lay motionless on the table, blood began to seep through the cloth and pool under him. </p><p> </p><p>It was sudden and gone in an instant but white, hot rage racked through his body. And it was his own, the voices a mere simmer compared to the absolute sea of ire he held at that moment. </p><p> </p><p>Bunching his hands into fists before he got to patching Tommy up, he slammed his fist into the wall and took a moment to revel in the pain that ricocheted through him, huffing out short, labored breaths. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tommy's wings were gone.  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Away From it All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The silence in the house was deafening. Despite the viciously howling wind outside, rattling the windows and disturbing the settled framework, Techno couldn't get a hold of the voices raging through his head. </p><p> </p><p>His knuckles were white against the table as he let his gaze fall over the unconscious boy before him. His breath was labored and his pupils were smaller than pins, rage barely tethered. The string holding it back was fraying, peeling away as the smaller threads snapped. It was only a matter of time before he would feel it give way under the tension. </p><p> </p><p><em> I'm in retirement, </em> Techno tried over the screaming in his ears, the turmoil in his head clear in the way his shoulders bunched up and shook. His head was lowered, his snout wrinkled in pain as he forced his eyes closed. <em> That isn't important.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Hurt! Look at him! He's hurt! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So much blood!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Kill them! Kill </em>him! </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Blood for the Blood God!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Get your revenge! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> HELP HIM!  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The piglin tossed his head back and let loose a gravely and pained yell. He gripped at his hair with bloody fingers, his entire body trembling with the weight that the voices brought. And his body <em> hurt.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Techno was a sudden whirl of movement as he gathered the supplies he needed. He had gauze and bandages at the ready, alcohol wipes, and quite a few different ointments. There was also plenty of stitching needles and thread that he could use if needed and a brace or two among the mess he had brought into the kitchen. </p><p> </p><p>The potions, he decided, would be better if they were ingested. They stayed firmly in his chest. </p><p> </p><p>He promptly ignored the way the red, red blood was dripping onto his floor. It wasn't his concern right now. </p><p> </p><p>"What an idiot," Techno grumbled under his breath, getting to work as he peeled the black sheet away from the kid, hissing at how filthy it was. How long had Tommy been outside? Sure, he was in exile but he had access to clean water. He should have been able to-</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Shut up. Work.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Through the pounding in his head, Techno gave a snort of acknowledgement towards the voice. Later. Everything could be dealt with <em> later.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Removing Tommy's shirt was easier than expected, the thing practically rags already. It was covered in dirt and grime and had so many rips and tears in it. Techno was able to dimly point out a few burn marks on the fabric (he also saw the singed hair on Tommy's head) before he tossed it aside. </p><p> </p><p>Removing the shirt was the <em> easy </em> part. Seeing what was under it almost made him freeze. <em> Almost.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Bruises littered Tommy' pale skin. Some of the bruises were darker than others, taking on a blackish blue while the healing marks were more of a yellowish brown. They seemed to clump at his stomach and ribs, the darkest being just over his right rib cage. It was nasty and it blossomed out almost like a flower would. If bruises could kill, Techno was sure that this one would have been the end of Tommyinnit. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn't just the bruises and numerous cuts on the boy's skin that caught his attention, though. It was how <em> thin </em>he was. With every shuddering breath the unconscious boy took, his stomach barely raised past his exposed ribcage. He looked sharp; a knife would have some competition. </p><p> </p><p>A gentle touch fluttered over the tender and injured skin, Techno making sure not to hurt the boy any more while checking for any bad breaks. One of his ribs were for sure broken as it could be seen through the skin. It was snapped in half, it seemed, a jagged end of the bone jutting out and pushing against his skin as if it wanted an escape. That would be a pain to deal with. He would have to slip it back in place and tightly wrap it-</p><p> </p><p>He had to deal with the blood first. It would be the easiest to start with, carefully maneuvering the teen onto his side and hissing in a pained breath. Tommy's back was <em> mangled. </em>There were huge divots where his wings used to attach to his shoulder blades, blood pouring out of the broken flesh, exposed muscle and bone shifting with the boy. Some parts of the wound were frozen, slowly thawing in the warmth of the house. At least it would have clotted the blood, but the fact that the already dead skin around the wound was even more damaged with a quickly spreading frostbite, Techno decided that he would have to cut those parts off. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> They were taken from him.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He's going to die.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Hunting season! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> What is going on?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Techno wasn't sure if those voices belonged to his Chat or if it was his own mind ringing. He took notice of what was being said, though, and his eyes narrowed. Tommy's back was caked with dried blood and grime but, sure enough, Techno could see signs of struggle. </p><p> </p><p>It was beyond bizarre to see the boy without those peregrine-like wings on his back. He had grown up with them and, right as they came in all fluffy and weak, he was persistent enough with Phil to teach him how to fly. </p><p> </p><p>The eldest, Wilbur, sat off to the side, legs hanging from the branch he was perched on in the tree that Techno was leaning against. They both had their eyes cast upwards, a light breeze washing over them as they watched Phil extend his massive, raven-like wings. Tommy mimicked the movement with ease, beaming. That was the easy part. </p><p> </p><p>The sound of Tommy's ankle breaking when he hit the ground still rang in Techno's head and, as he looked over the huge wounds, he wondered what <em> that </em> sounded like. Because they weren't just cut off. It was too jagged and there would have still been some bone peeking out of inflamed muscle. No…his wings were <em> ripped out. </em> Bone and all. <em> Nothing </em>was left. </p><p> </p><p>If he wanted to avoid any further damage and dodge infection, Techno would have to start now. So he did, slowly adjusting the boy so he was in a somewhat comfortable position before he got to work, slicing away the damaged skin and using what felt like dozens of wipes to keep the area around it clean. </p><p> </p><p>Techno sighed through his nose, brows furrowed in concentration and worry. He didn't even notice the way the emerald hanging from his ear began to glow. </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“I don’t think that this is a good idea, Phil. They seem upset.” An uneasy laugh followed that statement as the sound of shouting ensued.</p><p> </p><p>“I can tell, Wil,” Phil responded, tone light and a smile on his face despite the demanding situation. He had pried off the ankle monitor and, thanks to his ability to shift his wings into the form of a cape when needed, he was able to take off with little to no problem, Wilbur in his arms as they flew. "We will be out of their hair in a second, though. No need to worry, mate."</p><p> </p><p>The hollow voice that followed made Phil's movements falter, stuttering in the sky as he dodged a lantern with shaky confidence. It had been a while since he actually <em> flew. </em>"Are they going to hurt us?" </p><p> </p><p>Phil's easy smile turned tight and his eyes darkened as he cast a seething glare behind him. He was gaining altitude now, the wind whipping through his blond hair and nearly knocking his hat off of his head. He saw Tubbo, Quackity, and Fundy all standing there. The latter two had their bows drawn, ready to let loose arrows at the command of the president. </p><p> </p><p>That command never came. </p><p> </p><p>Phil let out a whoop of victory as he soared higher and higher, pumping his huge wings and only now answering Wil's question with a, "No, son. They aren't going to hurt us. We will be just fine."</p><p> </p><p>The emerald hanging from his ear gave off a faint glow as he let the tight smile on his face turn genuine once more. All he had to do was get to the tundra and he would be home! </p><p> </p><p>"Why did you bring me with?" Wilbur now asked, scratching at his head with a slightly transparent hand. Despite his see-through look, though, he was a very solid ghost. "Why did you leave L'Manburg? I thought you lived there." </p><p> </p><p>Phil tilted his head to the side in contemplation before he offered an easy, "They don't like me very much so it was for the best that I left. I brought you with, Wil, because I know how much you love adventures." He resisted the urge to raise his hand and wave off the last point, deciding to promptly ignore it. With how they treated Techno and especially Wil, Phil wanted <em> nothing </em>to do with that place. It was evil, the claws of power holding them all in a crushing grip as they scrambled to rise to the top. </p><p> </p><p><em> Poor Tubbo, </em> Phil allowed himself to think despite the sarcasm that laced the statement. The boy was just that: a child. And here he was, thrust into this responsibility under the watchful eye of the man that practically owned the entire land of the Esemp. </p><p> </p><p>One would have to be a fool to not notice just how much power Dream really held over them all. </p><p> </p><p>Phil let his thoughts drift away as he glanced down, seeing the ghosts' pale eyes practically sparkle at the mention of an adventure. The statement of a trip might have also been one of Phil's attempts to try and revive any childhood memory that the boy might have, especially when it came to the pair flying flying, but it didn't seem like anything in that clear mind of his was budging. </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah! Adventure!" Wilbur pumped his fists in the air and said, "Chat really likes that idea! They like it when we interact."</p><p> </p><p>Phil wasn't too sure what that meant, but he gave a soft smile nonetheless, shoulders rising with a chuckle. His wings were spread out wide as he glided, easily catching onto air currents that would take them home. The forest was quite expansive beneath them, relief washing over his features when he began to see the spruce trees and feel the chill of a much colder wind. </p><p> </p><p>"How long has it been since you've seen Techno, mate?" Phil inquired now, interrupting Wilbur's babbling. He was talking about some kind of bird that was prominent in the region this time of year or something like that. </p><p> </p><p>A careful finger found its way to Wilbur's chin as he seeped into silence, deep in thought. His brows were furrowed and a frustrated look passed through his glassy eyes. It made Phil regret asking. He knew how much the boy struggled with remembering now that he had passed through the gates of mortality before being ripped back into the land of the living, incomplete.</p><p> </p><p>"It's been a while, I think," Wilbur murmured, shrugging. The movement forced Phil to readjust his grip, pulling his boy closer to him and clasping his hands together as they rested over Wil's chest. "I remember him shouting something but I don't think I was really there. The day I died I think?" </p><p> </p><p>A stab of guilt shot through Phil and he fought the frown that tugged at the edges of his lips, keeping his eyes bright and his expression steady to avoid being gifted any blue mid flight. His mind, and the voices that plagued him, were suddenly shouting in despair and rage before they were expertly whisked away by a vivid memory. </p><p> </p><p>Phil would never forget the way the blood from his own son soaked his hands and stained his pale skin and green clothes. He would never forget the way he glanced to the decimated ruins of L’Manburg and saw the horrified expressions of his other sons. Techno fled the scene shortly after and all Tommy could do was fall to his knees. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t long after that Phil fled too, leaving Tommy completely alone. He had lost his entire family that day. </p><p> </p><p>"Right," he managed, voice strained as he pushed away the vivid images flashing through his mind. "A lot went on that day. Maybe you heard him in the distance. He is quite loud when he wants to be."</p><p> </p><p>"He is!" Wil agreed with a gasp. "He can drone on and on in that same tone for hours but, deep down, he has a set of vocal chords that <em> work! </em>It feels forbidden to hear a different tone come out of him."</p><p> </p><p>Phil laughed now, allowing a smile to settle on his face once more as he began his descent, wings tilting downwards and shifting ever so slightly so they didn’t plummet right into the treeline. "Anyways, we are almost there. You'll be able to see him again when we land."</p><p> </p><p>Wil's eyes were practically suns by how bright they became at the thought of seeing his younger brother. Phil was struck with a heavy feeling of nostalgia at the familiarity of the gaze, reminded of the day that he brought Techno home. Wil didn't even hesitate to take the little hybrid under his wing. </p><p> </p><p>"Techno! Yes! I missed him!" The eldest cheered, squirming I'm excitement as the trees got closer and closer, a few branches brushing up against them as they made their way down. The chill that the snow brought was welcoming and, as they touched down, Phil savored the sound of it crunching under his <em> geta. </em>"Let's go!"</p><p> </p><p>Phil snorted as Wil took off, sprinting away despite not needing to touch the ground to move anymore. "You're going the wrong way, mate!" He tried to warn, but the eldest was already in the trees, his laughter bouncing around as if he was in more than one place at once. </p><p> </p><p>Shaking his head in amusement, Phil turned in the right direction, the clearing in sight and the puffs of smoke from the chimney billowing up past the trees. He only had to take two steps before Wil was back at his side, a white fox squirming in his grip. </p><p> </p><p>"Techno is going to love him," Wil declared, Phil agreeing instantly because he <em> was </em>going to love the fox. </p><p> </p><p>His piglin habit of hoarding really shone through with his love for animals. </p><p> </p><p>The previous events of the day were forgotten as the now trio made their way towards the cozy cabin. Carl was in his pen, tossing his head up and down as if in greeting, Wilbur somehow managing to keep a hold on the fox and stroke the horse's nose at the same time. </p><p> </p><p>The emerald Phil had was practically buzzing now and he smiled as he made his way up the familiar stairs, knocking twice before he pushed the door open. He savored the warmth of the home as it washed over him. It almost felt like someone had draped a blanket over his shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>"Techno! I've escaped custody! We might have some unwelcome company soon, but I brought Wilbur!" He called out, shaking out the snow on his wings before he sighed, feeling the weight of them lessen as they thinned out and turned into a black cape, diamond-shaped symbols coating the hem. He really had to fix up his <em> haori </em> now that he looked at it closer. It was quite damaged along the edges and definitely <em> not </em>made for cold temperatures. That could be dealt with later, though.</p><p> </p><p>Phil let out a content sigh, removing his hat and shaking off some of the snow only to pause as his eyes shifted to the corner of the room. The chest filled with healing supplies-potions, bandages, wipes-was propped open. </p><p> </p><p>"Techno?" Phil called out, brows furrowing in increasing worry as he took a cautious step forward. His eyes trailed over the blue carpet he was standing on, sharp eyes able to point out the drops of blood on it. "Are you all right, mate?"</p><p> </p><p>He rounded the corner and peered into the kitchen, following the drops of blood to try and find the source. His eyes widened as he suddenly forgot how to breathe. His heart leapt into his throat before it plunged into the pit of his stomach, hammering against his ribcage. </p><p> </p><p>He was frozen in place as Wilbur came skittering in, as bright as ever, and chatting about some berries he fed Francis the Fox. Phil could barely register what he was saying, though, as he stared at the figure laying on the kitchen table and the bloody hands of Techno.</p><p> </p><p>At the silence, Wil's words fell away and he followed Phil's gaze, ignorant to the situation. The eldest's eyes widened at the sight and Phil had the sudden desire to grab the eldest and wrap him up with his wings, hiding the sight from his suddenly <em> very bright </em>eyes. The amount of despair that flooded Wil’s gaze almost made Phil choke.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur was the first to make a noise. </p><p><br/>
He <em> wailed. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Heya! I'm not sure how much I like this chapter but I found it quite fun to write! It's been a few days, too, so I decided to upload somethin' to keep this story in my mind.</p><p>Any typos or incorrect grammar and all of that-if you could point it out that would be great! I wrote this chapter in three parts and each time I did I was VERY sleep deprived so I did what I could when I went back and edited it. </p><p>Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed! I originally said there was only going to be two chapters but now I'm aiming for three! I'm keeping it open, though, since I'm not sure how the next chapter is going to go yet since I haven't planned it out hehe.</p><p>Have a wonderful day/night!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. In the Hands of an Unsteady Memory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I said this wouldn't be longer than 2-3 chapters since I'm new to all of this but hAAAAA OOPS </p>
<p>I'm not gonna say there is only one chapter left because I'm honestly not sure!!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, though! Let me know what you think in the comments - each of them are GREATLY appreciated! </p>
<p>I'm also working on a superhero au as well and I think I'm gonna publish that either later tonight or tomorrow so give it a read if you want! It will *probably* be a lot more fluffy than this! And, since there is a lot of superhero stuff going around I decided to throw my hat in the ring and try it out! :D</p>
<p>Have a lovely day!! Thank you for reading!! See you in the next update where there will *probably* be comfort! o/</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was not a single thought going through Phil’s mind as he took on the scene before him. His feet were rooted into the ground as his wide eyes focused on the boy on the table. The </span>
  <em>
    <span>unconscious </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>injured </span>
  </em>
  <span>boy on the table, blood pooling on the ground beneath the table from the injuries that were now bandaged. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How badly was he hurt?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno’s hands were </span>
  <em>
    <span>covered </span>
  </em>
  <span>with the blood. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>blood.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno…?” Phil tried, brows twitching downward as he watched the piglin raise his head. He looked…exhausted, his dark eyes appearing as if they had to be forcefully dragged to land on the pair that had just entered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno didn’t get an opportunity to respond before a very </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ghostbur sound came from the spirit. All Phil could do was watch as Wilbur staggered forwards, shockingly human-like, as he approached the table. His transparent form was shaking with sudden sobs, dark blue tears rolling down his face and landing on his yellow, stitched up sweater, staining the material before he leaned over Tommy, a shaky hand brushing some of the blond hair back, revealing a very </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy-like face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil couldn’t help the shudder that passed through his body at the sight of the boy. He looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>sickly: </span>
  </em>
  <span>all too thin, cuts and bruises littering his skin…it looked like he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>skin and bones. It looked as if one touch would shatter the boy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something felt oh, so wrong. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil…,” Techno managed, his quiet voice somehow heard over Wilbur’s sobs. Phil was anchored once more, ripping his gaze from the comatose child and staring at Techno with anguish clear in his eyes. “Phil, his…his wings….” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wrong! Wrong! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is so bad! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy! Tommy! Your child! Tommy! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Help him! Help him! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s going to die.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur! Ghostbur! He’s sad! Why is he sad?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His wings are </span>
  </em>
  <span>gone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil’s legs threatened to give out from under him and he staggered forwards, catching himself on the doorframe. His chest seized and screamed with the sudden effort to take in a breath, the floor beneath him spinning as the nausea rose. His throat tightened as his head grew light. He felt like he was going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How had he not noticed right away? Had it been that long? Was he away from his boy for so long that he didn’t even notice that his </span>
  <em>
    <span>wings </span>
  </em>
  <span>were </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone? </span>
  </em>
  <span>What had happened?! Were they really gone or was it just part of his ability to hide them? Phil could disguise them! Maybe that was what was going on…! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you do this?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wil…,” Phil heard, the monotone voice ringing with warning. It had no promise behind it, though. It sounded almost pleading. It was lost to the sudden noise that was raging in Phil’s head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do this?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” This didn’t feel right. This wasn’t right! This wasn’t Ghostbur. Wilbur wasn’t there! Phil had killed him! He </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt </span>
  </em>
  <span>the blood on his hands! He watched the life leave his eyes! This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not right! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The silence that settled over the house felt suffocating. It wrapped its claws around Phil’s head and began to </span>
  <em>
    <span>squeeze. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He tried to claw at it; opening his mouth to say something, he just looked like a fish out of water. No words came. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>say anything. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Did Techno do this…? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not what it looks like.” Techno’s voice slightly wavered and Phil blinked in his direction. He could barely make out the form of his middle son against the haziness that had overtaken him. There was no way. This couldn’t be happening. This was just a fucked up dream.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then tell me what it looks like!” Ghostbur (Wilbur?) shouted, one of his pale hands clasped tightly in one of Tommy’s, the latter unresponsive to the painful grip. Fat, blue tears were still rolling down his cheeks but he was able to steel himself enough to shout. “Tommy is on </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>table with his blood on </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>hands! He looks practically dead! I can…christ, I can barely feel a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pulse! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do this to him?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil suddenly realized why it had been so hard to respond as his gaze shifted to his eldest. He tried to not stagger forwards at the flickering form of the ghost. It looked as if he was phasing between timelines, Alivebur beginning to shine through with the way his corporeal form shifted. The yellow hoodie was replaced with a long, brown trench coat and a dark beanie that covered up his wild hair. For a few split seconds, Phil could see </span>
  <em>
    <span>color </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his endless, white eyes. He looked worn and upset and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>like Ghostbur. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wilbur. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Techno said, fingers curling into fists. Phil could see the way his temples shifted, a clear sign that he was clenching his teeth, tusks poking the skin of his cheeks with the movement. His voice was quiet…too quiet for the warrior. Hidden beneath layers of monotone disinterest, there was power behind his syllables. Now, his words seemed all too empty as he appeared to be finally processing the situation before him. “I didn’t.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then who did?!” Wilbur cried out, reaching a blue and red stained hand to grab at his beanie and remove it, tossing it onto the table to viciously run it through his hair. His feet were firmly planted on the ground as he bent over the form of his younger brother, desperation and anguish clear in his eyes. Phil had no trouble seeing that. “Who did this to my baby brother?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The only noise that followed were the choked sobs of the ghost and the labored breathing of Phil in the doorway. The blood had begun to stain their shoes, the crimson, viscous liquid seeping into the cracks in the wooden floor and undoubtedly dripping onto the stone of the basement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wil clutched onto Tommy’s shoulder as he sobbed into the fresh bandages that had been wrapped around his chest. The blue started to spread and, through the thick material of Wilbur’s jacket, Phil could see something on his back shifting out of a protective instinct. It was the same one that Phil felt: the overwhelming feeling to wrap his wings around his boys and make their hurt go away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy wasn’t the only one to lose his wings. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He lost his wings.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Grounded. Groundedinnit. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Child…Poor child. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Help them. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil didn’t know how Wilbur lost his wings. It had happened in his early childhood, old enough to explore on his own with his newfound ability to fly. Phil had trusted him to stay safe, offering to go with him just to make sure the boy would come back okay. Wil proudly declined and trampled into the forest, the teenager filled to the brim with excitement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur was missing for a week. He was just supposed to travel to a nearby village and gather some resources before returning home. It was an </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy </span>
  </em>
  <span>task that he had done with Phil dozens of times before.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil had spent </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours </span>
  </em>
  <span>upon </span>
  <em>
    <span>hours </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of the day searching for his son. He barely slept, opting to set up pillars and many fire signals in hope that his baby boy would see them and find his way back home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The avian remembered clinging onto the feeling that his son was still out there somewhere. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be. It was a desperate hope that he gripped onto with his clawed hands, refusing to release the little bit of light that was left. But how was he to know that Wilbur was still out there? Still </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He had never lost a child before…what did it feel like? He felt pretty bloody awful, that was for sure, racked with worry and pure </span>
  <em>
    <span>terror </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the idea that his baby could be wandering the forest in the middle of the night, trying to fly away from skeletons that shot at his wings and hurt him enough to ground him, making him unable to escape. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His wings were still fresh. He had just gotten through his first molt. They were still </span>
  <em>
    <span>soft. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His mug shattered in his grip as the door swung open, a chilled and damp gust of air blowing in from the night, bringing the smell of an upcoming storm and metallic </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil didn’t lose his child that night, but it felt like it. Wilbur didn’t speak for months after he returned, opting to stay alone in his room or cling to Phil’s side like his life depended on it. It was only a month or two before Phil had brought Techno home that the boy started to perk up again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil didn’t use his wings around Wil much after that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He can’t fly,” Wilbur sobbed now, dragging Phil from the painful memory. The father looked away from the twitching muscles on Wil’s back, despair settling into a deep pit in his stomach, making him lurch forwards and actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy. Just to make sure he was there. Just to make sure he wasn’t having one of his sick and twisted nightmares.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How he hoped this was a nightmare.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A whine of anguish was released from a deep part of his throat as he stumbled towards the boy’s face, carefully brushing a shaky hand through his dirty and matted hair. It was suddenly very hard to see through the tears that were quickly welling up in his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I found ‘em a mile or so out,” Techno offered quietly. He didn’t move a muscle, his eyes firmly planted on his bloodied hands as if he didn’t deserve to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the boy. “He was actin’ fine until he wasn’t. I tried…I couldn’t give him potions…you gotta…,” his voice broke then and he ran a bloody hand through his pink hair, staining it in the process. He blinked away whatever was building up in his eyes and tried again. “You gotta believe me. I didn’t…I </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>hurt him.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All of their minds chimed with the painfully </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>words he had spoken to Tommy on the day that tore them apart their family for good. It was the day that Wilbur died. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Then die like one. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Blood. So, so much blood.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Is he breathing?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Killza! Killza! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You have no right to mourn. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then die like one!! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I believe you,” Phil choked out, nodding as he continued to brush whatever grime was stuck in Tommy’s hair. He tried to tell himself he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>trying to preen him. His stomach had churned when he reached the burned ends, sucking in a sharp breath at the way the blond strands were blackened, peeling away from the source. What was the source? How did this </span>
  <em>
    <span>happen? </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I know you wouldn’t. You would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno was never big with words. He was never really that big on actions, either. Especially when he was just a little thing; it took years upon years to gain the piglin’s trust. When that trust was gained, though, it was fierce and unshakable. Phil and Wilbur had to earn that trust, the process painfully slow, but the pair were understanding. When Tommy was brought into the picture, though, the piglin made it crystal clear that he would let </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>happen to the boy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He would get upset at his younger brother and snap at him, sure, but that was the most that had been done to the boy. Tommy could take it in stride and Techno understood that, the younger carrying on his babbling as if Techno hadn’t threatened him. They both knew Techno’s words were empty, void of any form of promise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno’s desire to protect those he loved only grew as he got older and Phil could vaguely remember a conversation that they had in their old kitchen one night, Tommy healing from his broken leg after trying to fly on early wings (Phil told him that he was just going to show him how to take off and land, strictly telling him </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to fly because he physically </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Tommy hadn’t listened).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hover</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” the boy had whined, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth as he pouted, somehow managing a glare at the three of them. They wouldn’t let him out of their sight since he had gotten hurt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have never broken a bone before,” Phil tried, giving him a soft smile which only seemed to piss off the boy more. “I don’t want you getting even more hurt because of it.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s too much!” Tommy argued, throwing his hands up now before they dropped to cross over his chest. “I don’t need Wil or Techno to sleep in the same bed as me! That just makes no sense! I’m not a baby!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As if you don’t sneak into our beds in the middle of the night, anyways,” Wilbur snickered from the other side of the table, making an angry red flush flare up the back of Tommy’s neck and reach the tips of his ears. Wilbur only laughed as the younger tried to kick him from under the table.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s easier to stay with you than have to worry about it overnight,” Techno said, making the bickering of the eldest and youngest die down immediately. The silence had seemed to make Techno uncomfortable as he lowered his head, pushing more food into his mouth before Wilbur and Tommy collectively </span>
  <em>
    <span>awed. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You actually care!” Tommy dramatically cried out, reaching out and making grabby hands at Techno who only swatted them away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur cooed, “The cold heart of the mighty pig is thawing out! You’re growing soft!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The arguing at the table that ensued was lighthearted and quite brotherly, resulting in Wilbur sticking out his pinky finger, making each of them swear to look out for each other no matter what.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s stupid, Wil,” Tommy grumbled, but held out his pinky and linked it anyways, Techno sighing a moment before he joined in. Each of their heads turned to Phil, then, and he laughed, not hesitating in the slightest as he joined the link. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They might be messy and strange but they loved each other. They had made a promise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On the day of the festival, that promise was broken by each of them. When Phil realized this, too, he felt the dread begin to rise, tearing through his stomach and clawing into his chest, latching around his heart and snaking into his lungs. It was ripping him apart from the inside out and Phil, to his own dismay, realized that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>truly sure if Techno didn’t do this or not. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The many discarded and bloody rags in the sink as well as the potion-soaked bandages strewn on the floor as if done in a rush told a different story. Phil could see the careful way the bandages were wrapped around the boy and he could see the despair in Techno’s eyes. He just wasn’t one for words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His actions spoke monumentally louder. And, right now, as Wilbur wailed and pleaded for his baby brother to come back to them, all Techno could do was grip Tommy’s other hand for a second before he stood up and started to pick up the mess. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had all made mistakes. They had all broken their promise. That memory had probably become lost to all of them in the heat of the situation but it was a promise nonetheless. It was equally all of their faults and Phil was content to take all of the blame. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By no means was he perfect; he fell prey to favoritism and was absent for a while. He had only returned to drive a sword through Wilbur’s heart and drive a larger divide through what was left holding his family together. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All he could do was hope that ifーno, </span>
  <em>
    <span>when </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy woke up he would at least have a chance to apologize. That was all he wanted. </span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t even sure if he deserved it.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Painful Grip of Fault</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HEY!!! It's TECHNICALLY Saturday where I am hehe! 1:48 am, to be exact! My sleep schedule is utterly fucked because of how horribly stressed college got me lately, but things have finally started to calm down so I was able to keep to my word and update now! </p><p>oh boy this one is HEAVY with warnings<br/>Warnings for: blood and gore, manipulation, suicidal thoughts (just in the beginning), vomiting, explosions, and just general badness that comes with the exile</p><p>Stay safe!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Wilbur, please! Don't leave me! I need…I need your <em> help! </em>" </p><p> </p><p>"I don't want to leave you, Toms. I can't stop!"</p><p> </p><p>"Wilbur! Don't go! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"</p><p> </p><p>"You did nothing wrong."</p><p> </p><p>The darkness that settled felt more suffocating than the sudden silence. Tommy curled in on himself and gripped his elbows, tucking his knees to his chest as he just…existed. Did he exist? Where was he? Why couldn't he see anything? </p><p> </p><p>"It's my fault," Tommy whispered, clenching his eyes closed. At least, he thought he did. He couldn't tell the difference in the inky darkness, the void swallowing him whole. It felt as if his soul was holding on to the edge of a cliff by just two fingers. He was in so much pain and he just wanted to let go. </p><p> </p><p>Wilbur told him that he did nothing wrong. Tommy knew that was a lie.</p><p> </p><p>It felt like eons that he was in exile, every day waking up in a strange tent in a strange place with this <em> strange </em>feeling beginning to settle over him. He didn't know what to call it, but he hated it. He hated the way it twisted his stomach and rose to his heart before weighing it down, taking his breath away as his mind began to drift. </p><p> </p><p>Any other person would have known it to be terrible regret and despair so strong that it would knock a normal person on their knees. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy wasn't any normal person, though. He was <em> the </em>Tommy Innit! He helped build a country from the ground up and died for it twice. He had been through an exile before, surviving on nothing but potatoes while he watched his oldest brother descend into a madness which would lead to his death by their father's hands. He lived through the tragedy of the second bombing of L'Manburg and two wither attacks in the same day. Tommy had lived through it all. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy had <em> survived.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> So why is this so different?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sitting awake at ungodly hours of the night, Tommy would let the cold water from the ocean lap at his toes as he sat back, staring at the sky. Why did he suddenly feel this way after years of being just fine? Why did he suddenly have the urge to scream and cry and just <em> stop?  </em></p><p> </p><p>The louder part of him immediately blamed everyone else. It was Dream's fault since it was his idea to exile Tommy in the first place! If Dream hadn’t pushed his buttons the moment he got into this god forsaken kingdom then he wouldn’t even be in this predicament! The way Tubbo agreed on his exile like he was just throwing a piece of trash away…was that painful stinging in his head the feeling of betrayal? How was it a betrayal if Tommy deserved it? Because being alone for this long gave him time to reflect on everything.</p><p> </p><p>It was all Tommy’s <em> fault, </em> no matter how badly he wanted to deny it. He wanted to scream to the heavens that it wasn’t but, in reality, it all started with <em> him. </em> And, as Dream continued to visit (at the beginning, Tommy spat at him, saying nasty things because the man shouldn’t even have the <em> audacity </em>to be in Tommy’s presence), the man decided to hit that fact home harder and harder, forcing the boy to throw his hard-earned things into a pit like they were worth nothing. With every word the man spat at him and every stick of dynamite he set off, it seemed to chisel away more and more at the strong, selfless, independent Tommy Innit. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Selfless? Please! None of this would be happening if you hadn't gotten attached to those music disks. You orchestrated your own downfall."  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dream's words reverberated in his head, his vision going fuzzy and his mouth going dry. His eyes widened and, despite the sudden hurricane that began to rage in his head, Tommy couldn't utter a word. Because Dream was <em> right. </em> It had been his fault. If he didn’t have such a childish attachment to pieces of vinyl, maybe he would still be living happily with Tubbo. Maybe he would be able to wake up in the morning and look forward to the day. <em> Maybe Wilbur would still be alive and Techno wouldn’t hate you and Phil wouldn’t have left and </em>ー</p><p> </p><p>The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. It had knocked the wind out of him and he was left struggling to breathe, desperately clutching at his chest in an effort to ground himself. His eyes welled with unshed tears before his other hand moved to wrap around his waist, his filthy wings shifting to almost wrap around him if they didn’t hurt so fuckin’ bad. They were so dirty and almost all of the feathers were displaced, bent at awkward angles. The tips of his flight wings had been sliced off in an effort to keep him grounded and a wire had kept the joints painfully tucked together, unable to stretch out at all. He wasn’t allowed to preen his wings and he wasn’t allowed to have anyone else do it for him. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy had almost laughed when Ghostbur asked if he could tidy them up. Even in death, Ghostbur’s wings didn’t follow. It made Tommy’s chest ache.</p><p> </p><p>“Why would ya wanna do that?” Tommy asked, head cocked to the side as he tossed a few twigs into the fire he was nursing. He saw the way the blue stained fingers of the ghost twitched as if they were <em> longing </em> to reach out and <em> clean. </em>The instincts of a hybrid never left, even if their physical attributes got taken away. </p><p> </p><p>“They are dirty,” Ghostbur stated, hollow eyes looking up to meet Tommy’s dull, blue ones. For a split second, the younger could have <em> sworn </em>he saw the flicker of brown, but maybe he was just hallucinating. He had been doing that a lot recently. “I want to help. It will make you feel better.” </p><p> </p><p>Damn, was he being <em> that </em> transparent? Probably. Totally. With his hunched over posture and the way his now free wings twitched in pain every time they shifted incorrectlyーand, gods, did they <em> itch </em>ーGhostbur could read him like an open book. </p><p> </p><p>The boy didn’t even have the energy to deny the help, sighing heavily as he slumped to a sitting position on the ground, the light from the fire shining in his eyes as he gave an expectant look towards Ghostbur. The ghost gave a happy hum and drifted his way over without hesitation, explaining how he was glad that Tommy didn’t have the bonds around his wings anymore. Tommy murmured something about Dream letting him stretch them out because of how cooperative he had been. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy tried his best to not squirm at the beginning, only yelping and swearing when Ghostbur gently led each of the wings to an outstretched position, stretching them before slowly guiding them back. Not only did the muscles in the wings scream in protest, but so did Tommy’s shoulders and back, pain shooting through his body like bolts of lightning. </p><p> </p><p>Ghostbur murmured soft reassurances as he continued, the stretching portion <em> finally </em> done. When he got to the actual preening, Tommy thought he could cry. It felt so <em> good. </em>The way soft, cold fingers brushed through the dirt and grime that had built up on his feathers and the gentle way that loose ones were pulled free, Tommy could almost imagine that it was Wilbur behind him…not his forgetful ghost. The thought made his heart throb, though, before he shook it away. Ghostbur was fine. It was okay that Wilbur was gone. </p><p> </p><p>He was <em> fine.  </em></p><p> </p><p>A week later Ghostbur disappeared, leaving Tommy completely alone. Ghostbur had been a nice distraction for Tommy, taking his mind off of the crushing reality that had settled around him a few weeks before. <em> My fault my fault my fault my fault. </em> The boy yearned for the soft preening once more too, too afraid to do it himself. He knew Dream would be upset when he visited next so he didn't touch them again. </p><p> </p><p>He didn't prepare for just <em> how </em>upset he would be, piled on with the discovery of something even worse. He could only watch as Dream discovered the stash of resources he had hidden in the ground.</p><p> </p><p>He had fucked up.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy was frozen in place, sputtering unheard apologies as green suddenly enveloped his vision. He was shoved out of the building a moment before he watched <em> everything </em>blow up. </p><p> </p><p>The feeling of hands on his wings jolted him from his daze and Tommy's reaction was primal, a yell escaping him as he yanked free from Dream's gaze and whirled around, punching him square in the face. His wings puffed out behind him and they flicked in a feral anger, blood dripping down his knuckles as he took in what he had just done. </p><p> </p><p>Dream's mask was shattered, the strap holding it together torn in half as bright green eyes fixated on him, fury barely tethered. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Oh shit.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Dream! Dream, I'm sorry, man! Y-You startled me! I thought you were gonnaーwhat are you doing?" Tommy scrambled back as Dream advanced on him. A yell of protest escaped him as the man grabbed a fistful of his dirty blond hair, yanking his head back so Tommy was forced to look the seething man in the eyes. Terror overwhelmed him and his clipped wings went limp, his eyes widening as he trembled. </p><p> </p><p>"You are out of second chances, Tommy," Dream growled. "I gave you so many chances, too. And look what you did!<em> This </em>is why you were exiled! You can't follow simple orders! You hurt those who care about you!" He was yelling now and Tommy closed his eyes against it, hoping it would all just end. A rough tug of his hair forced them back open before the onslaught continued. </p><p> </p><p>"I showed you kindness and I gave you my friendship when no one else did!" Dream explained, using his free hand to gesture to the mess around them. "And <em> this </em>is how you repay me?! You're absolutely helpless without me, too! You would have starved if I wasn't here!"</p><p> </p><p>Tommy wanted to yell that he was wrong; he wanted to shout and scream and writhe because everything that was being said was <em> wrong! </em> Dream wasn't his friend! All he did was hurt him! He pushed him down and blew up his things and <em> grounded </em> him! He was the absolute <em> worst!  </em></p><p> </p><p><em> He takes care of you, </em> a sniveling voice whispered at the back of Tommy’s mind. <em> He gives you healing potions when you are hurt.  </em></p><p> </p><p><em> Only after he beats the shit out of me, though! </em> Tommy argued. <em> It's because of him!  </em></p><p> </p><p><em> He keeps you warm and gives you food and holds you when you have a rough time waking up, </em> it now said and something deep inside Tommy faltered, his expression breaking into one of fearful apprehension. <em> He was there for you when no one else was. Despite all of the hurt you caused, he stuck by your side.  </em></p><p> </p><p><em> He…He yells at me and hurts me…a-and…, </em> Tommy tried, thoughts faltering. <em> And he seems to…to care. But he's so scary.  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He only wants what is best for you.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His mind was silent as he was pushed to the ground, all of his fight gone. He was dragged by the wings to the crater that was once his tent, harshly kicked onto it. He hit the ground of the crater and groaned out, fresh cuts and scrapes covering his hands and forearms as he attempted to stop the fall, a new pain blossoming from his back. He decided to ignore the strange way his right wing was bent, the bone most definitely broken, as as looming figure advanced to him once more, axe in hand and only a silhouette against the black smoke that made Tommy’s lungs scream in protest.</p><p> </p><p>"If you won't learn the easy way, then I'll do something a little more permanent," Dream hissed. At first, when he reached out, Tommy thought he was going for his head again. He thought that his last life would be taken from him. And, oh gods, he was going to die so helpless and alone and <em> scared.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Dream's hand kept moving. Tommy didn't have time to register it before a vice grip was yanking his injured wing out and away, making the boy cry out in pain. That earned him a sharp jab into his ribs from the handle of the axe, forcing his hands to cover his mouth this time. </p><p> </p><p>Flooding past his initial confusion, the feral, primal urge rose in his chest once more. He was in so much danger. His instincts were clawing at his mind and ripping through his gut and doing anything they could so he would get up and <em> run </em>as the wickedly sharp part of the axe was placed against the base of his wings. Dream was lining it up. He wasn't just going to clip his wings. He was going toー</p><p> </p><p>A guttural scream ripped its way through Tommy's throat as the axe came down on the first wing. Agony burned through him as his muscles were severed and his bones were shattered. He could barely see the blood as it splattered in all different directions, the vein cleanly sliced through. The weight of his wing was still there, though. Dream had left it hanging by muscles and tendons that screamed and twitched in a fiery protest. The mangled wing could only muster up a faint twitch as Dream released it, the appendage flopping uselessly to the side. He wasn’t even close to being finished.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy felt like he was going to pass out. Dream <em> sawed </em>at the second wing before he reached the bone and seemed to think better about continuing, pulling out and away from the fresh wound that had Tommy whimpering and hissing. The absence of the cold, enchanted blade made him think that it was over.</p><p> </p><p>The fierce grip on his shoulder was suddenly gone and Tommy lurched forwards, trying to form a coherent sentence that sounded almost like an apology. He was <em> begging </em>as he tried to crawl away, voice cracking and breaking with emotion and with the fact that he had just screamed his throat raw. His fingers clawed at the scorched dirt beneath him before he dissolved into a fit of terrible coughs, eyes clenched closed as his face was pressed into the ground. The movement shifted his wings ever so slightly and an overwhelming wave of nausea washed over him. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy could taste blood and bile in his mouth as he tried to get away. He had to get <em> away!  </em></p><p> </p><p>It hadn't crossed his mind that his wings couldn't be salvaged after that. </p><p> </p><p>Through the roaring in his ears and the incoherent cries, Tommy felt hands grab at both of his wings and lift them up. The movement ripped yet another scream from his lungs but it seemed to fall to dear ears as Tommy dimly registered the feeling of a boot against the middle of his back.</p><p> </p><p>"N-No!" Tommy cried, whipping his head around to try and peer through the dust and tears to look at Dream. He wanted him to <em> stop! </em> The area was suddenly filled with hoarse apologies and desperate pleas, terrified promises finishing off the rambling when he realized Dream wasn't responding. He had to respond! Tommy would do better! He could do better! Just, <em> please stop! Please, please please please </em>ー</p><p> </p><p>"This is for your own good." </p><p> </p><p>The sound of flesh tearing away from flesh and bones snapping filled the sudden silence. Tommy had opened his mouth as his arms collapsed under him, but no noise came as the darkness swiftly overtook his vision. He didn't even remember falling.</p><p> </p><p>The noise that came next temporarily deafened him as a wave of blistering heat washed over his body. His right ear had blood trickling out of it as the fire reflected in his half opened eyes. The metal smell of the blood that pooled around himーit soaked into the dry ground before the soil had enough, rejecting the offer and leaving it to settle around Tommy, sticking to his skin and clinging to his clothes like it wanted back inーwas overtaken by the putrid smell of burning flesh and feathers. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy dimly wondered what Dream had just disposed of, too focused on the agonizing burn on his back that throbbed with each harsh breath he took. </p><p> </p><p>"H-Hel…Help m-me," Tommy managed, struggling with his words as he spoke as if his mouth was filled with cotton. Everything felt so <em> heavy. </em>"D-Dream…"</p><p> </p><p>Dream was gone. Tommy was going to die here. Dream had <em> left him to die!  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He's teaching you a lesson. This is your fault. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy was somehow on his feet, then, the world spinning quickly as he dangerously swayed where he stood. The blood dripped onto the ground in a steady manner and Tommy dimly realized he probably needed help. So he began to walk. He knew how to do that much. </p><p> </p><p>The boy barely made it out of the ruins before he doubled over and threw up, bile rising through his throat, acid scorching the raw skin even more as it did so.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe he should get something to stop the bleeding. He couldn't see the wound despite his best efforts (which were painfully pitiful, his head only tilting slightly to the side before he gave up), so he picked up a scorched sheet that was at his feet and rested it over his shoulders. That would be fine. </p><p> </p><p>Through his unbalanced steps, Tommy's mind began whispering once more. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> This is all your fault.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy barely registered the light that began to engulf his world before he was falling, too focused on the sudden absence of Wilbur. </p><p> </p><p>There was a pause before he hit the ground and the world twisted, warmth washing over him before he groaned out. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy opened his eyes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:)</p><p>Pain! </p><p>ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR OVER 2K HITS AND ALL OF THE NICE COMMENTS AND KUDOS!! MY HEART AAAAAAA<br/>you all make me really love doing this even though I just started ;-;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Break from it All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ayup! How are you all doing?? </p>
<p>This chapter is a bit rough an' all since it has been rewritten a total of...three times, I think? I am pretty okay with the outcome, though! </p>
<p>Also, my bad for any errors or any confusion on the POV: it's third person open so it doesn't focus on just one of 'em! And, on top of that, I got my covid vaccine and it has been kicking my a s s</p>
<p>I can't remember the last time I felt this bad. But anyways! I hope you enjoy the chapter! Have a bit of fluff!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The first few times Tommy's bandages had to be changed, Wilbur insisted that he be there to learn just how Techno did it. The piglin argued that he would just be in the way, which Wil responded with a simple eyebrow raise. He was quite literally a ghost. If he didn't want to get in the way, he wouldn't. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Deep down, Wilbur knew Techno was just trying to protect him. It must not be a pretty sight.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gave a tired, victorious smile as Techno let out a gruff, "fine." The process was a lot more intricate than he initially imagined. He knew that the bandages were soaked in some potions beforehand, but Techno also applied some magma cream to the spots on the boy that were suffering from mild frostbite. The skin luckily wasn’t black and blue so that meant it would be an easy enough fix, the cream speeding up the healing process all while keeping the area warm and sterile. Techno had apparently used it on himself a handful of times despite his thick, pig-like skin. He must have gotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> cold for the effects of frostbite to settle in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ya just gotta make sure he's stable when you wrap up his torso," Techno grunted, nodding to Wilbur, who jumped before grabbing onto Tommy, a hand tucked into his hair and the other on his shoulder to keep him steady and comfortable. "This is going to get hard to look at."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was like Wilbur was watching L'Manburg blow up all over again. He couldn't look away. Except, this time, dread and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fury </span>
  </em>
  <span>coursed through him. It wasn't the satisfaction or desperate madness that he had died with. This was pure rage as his eyes landed on the state his brother's back was in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy's muscles were exposed and two sharp shards of bone peeked out from under the red, inflamed, and bloated tissue. The tops of the gashes were </span>
  <em>
    <span>neat,</span>
  </em>
  <span> as it continued, as if someone carved away with an intricate hold. The wound only got messier as Wil’s eyes trailed down, down. He wasn’t sure where some cuts started and where others ended. The place where his wings used to be, though…it appeared as if the skin had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>ripped </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>torn</span>
  </em>
  <span> away</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wil could barely stifle the sudden urge to vomit at the sight, despair clawing at a stomach that didn’t exist. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno had said he did his best to clean up what he could, but Wilbur could see the dead, frayed edges of tissue that were desperately clinging onto Tommy, hardened and completely pale, beginning to blacken as it met fresh and living skin. The smell, mixed with the warm magma cream and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrid </span>
  </em>
  <span>fragrance of the healing potions, was atrocious. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wil couldn’t bring himself to watch as Techno took a scalpel and sliced away the rot, barely able to fathom what the piglin was smelling at the moment with his enhanced senses and all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't stitch it together," Techno grumbled through the tense silence, brows furrowed as Wilbur tightened his grip on the boy in his arms. He let the faint puffs of breath coming from Tommy's mouth ground him. "There isn't enough living skin to work with. It'll cause more harm. The potions should speed up the process, though, making new skin and all that."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of fabric ripping echoed through Techno's room in the attic, the piglin holding out a wingspan length of bandages before he gave a satisfied hum and began to wrap Tommy's chest up, crossing it over his shoulders once, twice before he taped it off, applying more cream to an inflamed wound on Tommy's sharp shoulder, giving Wilbur a nod as he wiped his hands off with a spare towel. It was as easy as that. After over a week, though, Wilbur hoped that Techno got all of the decaying skin off so he wouldn't have to do it himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur gently led the boy back to a lying position in the plush bed, a breath he didn't know he was holding releasing in the form of a quiet sigh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno was content to let Tommy adopt his room while he was recovering, the boy not having much of a say in it, anyways. It was the second biggest room in the house and it had most of the materials that they needed already there, thanks to Techno's hoarding habits. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Like every other piglin, Techno had a strange attachment to gold. Even if he was sporting casual clothes, some form of gold jewelry could be seen on him whether it be a necklace, a ring, or just his crown. Those habits branched out to animals as he got older and Wilbur could clearly remember his younger brother barreling into the house with a baby wolf or a bunny in his arms, Phil only sighing as they added the animal to the pasture they had made to keep them all safe and in order. It wasn't surprising to see thatーespecially since Techno used to compete in tournamentsーthat there were numerous chests filled to the brim with first aid things and healing potions. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur had praised Techno’s instincts on numerous occasions throughout their quite sudden stay, usually met with a snort or faint chuff. That was good. Wil remembered some of the key sounds that his brother would make and the meanings behind them. After all, words were always difficult for him. Unless he was stabbing someone or threatening their life…then he was pretty vocal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why is he so skinny?" Wilbur mourned, immediately back in the chair that was set up next to the bed. "I remember him having plenty of food…."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno rubbed a thumb between his brows and a sense of empathy washed over him. The voices must be loud. He probably wasn't making them any better by prodding the beast with a stick as he asked questions with difficult answersーhe hoped they had answers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t put it past Dream to only give the kid food when you were around,” Techno groaned, slumping heavily into a chair on the opposite side of the bed, still facing Wilbur. They weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain </span>
  </em>
  <span>that it was Dream but, seeing as he was the only one to visit Tommy…. “Was Ghostbur around often?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur gave a frustrated shrug as he pulled off his jacket, shifting over to his younger brother and draping it over him, topping off two blankets already. They were just happy that Tommy wasn’t getting a fever yet…some of his wounds were </span>
  <em>
    <span>horribly </span>
  </em>
  <span>infected. Maybe the potions helped a lot more than any of them initially planned. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t…those memories are kind of fuzzy,” Wilbur sighed, slumping into his chair once more, guilt rising in his chest and spreading through his body like a wildfire. It made him feel lightheaded, his stomach twisting with the horrible feeling. “I do remember Tommy asking for help a few times, though. I didn’t…I didn’t understand what he was talking about…I should have been more concerned when the blue darkened faster than it should have.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That wasn’t you, Wilbur,” Techno tried, the rumble of his voice bringing an air of comfort to the eldest. At least one thing hadn’t changed. “Ghostbur was a completely different person. That begs the question, though…are you really Wilbur?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost startled at that question, the grip on Tommy’s hand loosening a fraction as his mind tried to process the question. His defenses shot up and anger sparked in his eyes like little explosions as he hissed, “Are you sayin’ I’m a fake?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno was quick to raise his hands in his defense, his head shaking as he quickly said, “No. Not at all. I’m asking if you are the Wilbur you were when you died or if you are just another variant of him. Like Ghostbur. I’m not sure how this stuff works, man.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wilbur didn’t have an immediate response to that. He allowed himself to look down at his hands, though, carefully sliding them out of the unresponsive grasp. His fingers were translucent and appeared to pulse to a beat that he didn’t have, phasing in and out of reality as he kept an iron grip on the mortal world. He wasn’t ready to leave.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I…don’t know,” Wilbur finally said, breaking the silence that had settled over the pair, light gasps of breath filling the sudden void. It was unnerving to hear their youngest brother struggle to breathe. It sounded as if his lungs were </span>
  <em>
    <span>scarred. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Maybe he had been exposed to too much smoke; the singed clothes and hair would support that claim. “I’m not sure how I got here. I remember being in someplace dark. Oh, that bastard Schlatt was there, too! An annoying fuck, that one is, even in the afterlife.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno snorted, his shoulders slowly losing their tension as the conversation progressed. The anger that Wilbur experienced before was gone in the blink of an eye, passing like lightning and thankfully not sticking around to leave any nasty aftereffects. It was still jarring to see, though, the Wilbur that had been run through with a sword that day, his jacket a tattered mess as it lay on top of the blankets that were tucked around Tommy. His shirt was sliced open and an elongated, diamond-shaped wound was revealed on his chest, his beanie still discarded on one of the counters downstairs, allowing his brown hair free as it nearly settled over his left eye.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur was supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And, from the sudden babbling coming from the ghost (Techno tried to keep track of the sudden stories thrown in his direction, Schlatt and Mexican Dream being the only other two to ever come up), it sounded like he had been in two places at once. It was as if his soul was split in two. Techno could only imagine how </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrible </span>
  </em>
  <span>that could have been. It made sense that Ghostbur only remembered the positives that way. The other half of him must have been completely in the afterlife, all of the negative memories with him instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Boys?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur’s words came to a screeching halt and his head whipped in the direction that the new voice came from. Blond hair and ocean blue eyes peered at them from the open trapdoor, a pale hand keeping it propped open while the other was used to keep himself steady on the ladder. Phil’s wings were still tucked away in the form of his black cape but he now sported more casual clothes: a simple green shirt with whatever comfortable pants he found lying around. He hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>officially </span>
  </em>
  <span>moved in with Technoーsince he had to stay at his property in L’Manburgーbut some of his belongings could be found through the house. The traces of him in all places except for the room he had adopted were just whispers of something to come at a later date. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was still very proud of the nest he was allowed to make in his room. And, right now, when he laid his eyes upon each of his son’s, he wanted nothing more than to envelop them in his wings and lead them to that very nest, shielding them away from whatever harm the world tried to throw at them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Killza! Killza! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>were </span>
  <em>
    <span>the harm! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You killed Wilbur.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You left them.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Promises broken! Promises broken! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Like birds screeching in his head, the voices that plagued Phil’s mind spoke nothing but the truth. Why should be able to coddle his children </span>
  <em>
    <span>now? </span>
  </em>
  <span>After all of the hurt that he has caused each of them? It was unfair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...Phil?” The word was filled with uncertainty as Wilbur looked to him with barely concealed worry and caution. He had every right to be cautious. The last time Phil had been with his son when he was alive, he drove a sword through his chest. “You all right?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” the man coughed now, shaking the thoughts free from his head as he pulled himself into the room in the attic, carefully closing the spruce trapdoor before he settled himself on the ground, mindlessly brushing through the blue rug with calloused and scarred fingers. “Just wanted to make sure you boys were all right. A lot has happened.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno offered a snort, clear exasperation on his face but he said nothing. Even though they were all reunited again, Phil could tell that the piglin wished it was on better terms. Hell, Tommy and Techno nearly killed one another during their last encounter! Now, to suddenly have to care for the child that interrupted his quiet retirement? Irritation was probably an understatement for what he was feeling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil wasn’t just talking about Tommy, though. The sudden change in Wilbur sent them </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>reeling. Because this was the Wil that pleaded for Phil to kill him. This was the Wil that had been exiled from a country he had founded and was forced to fight for it tooth and nail. This was the Wil that had gone mad under the pressure of it all, leading to his demise. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil made sure to keep a steady eye on his eldest until things calmed down. Was Wilbur still technically his oldest? He was dead and all, so he surely couldn’t age…. Not like it mattered. It was just a passing thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Wil murmured now, his own fingers fidgeting in his lap as he tugged at a loose thread on the hem of his gray shirt. “Just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>few </span>
  </em>
  <span>things happened.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil wanted to add something like: </span>
  <em>
    <span>but we’re all together now, so we will get through it </span>
  </em>
  <span>but he knew that would be reaching for something that most likely wasn’t there anymore. They hadn’t been a family in years. They hadn’t been </span>
  <em>
    <span>together </span>
  </em>
  <span>in years. The closest had apparently been when the three brothers were cooped up in that ravine that they called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pogtopia. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Apparently, Tommy had named it and it stuck. Or maybe not; the boy could be quite convincing when he began to whine. Phil wasn’t sure how willing the others were.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you…need anything?” Phil decided to ask, lifting his gaze from the rug to study the two before him. Wilbur hadn’t left Tommy’s side since he became </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself </span>
  </em>
  <span>again. He had accepted an apple that Techno had offered him, though. Apparently, he wasn’t completely incorporeal. He got hurt like others and he needed food as if to heal himself back up, but he didn’t have any organs. Well, at least he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>he did. He didn’t know too much about this </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghosting </span>
  </em>
  <span>stuff despite being one. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It got kind of annoying to have one foot in the door and the other out..</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah,” Techno rumbled, offering a comforting </span>
  <em>
    <span>chuff </span>
  </em>
  <span>before turning his red gaze to the youngest, who let out an especially heavy puff of breath. “I just ate. I was just changin’ his bandages before I went to feed Carl.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can help you out with that,” Phil offered and Wilbur could tell Techno wanted to turn him down but, when their father caught the piglin’s gaze, he only sighed in defeat and nodded. “I was going to start getting things ready for dinner, anyways; maybe upgrade your farm while I’m at it.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, always the tinkering bloke,” Wilbur chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in the chair in amusement. “Can’t keep still, can you?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A breathy laugh escaped his father and he shook his head, bringing a hand to the back of his neck as if he was suddenly embarrassed. “Not lately, no. After being trapped in that bloody house for what felt like eons, I want to be able to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>something again.” Wilbur remembered the bright smile on his father’s face as he carried them away from L’Manburg a few days ago. It must have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>nice to be able to spread his wings again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur’s shoulders began to ache at the thought, but he stomped the feeling down as he rolled his eyes. “I’ll join you for the renovations. I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>you’ll need my input.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, mate,” Phil chuckled, standing up and stretching before he reached down for the trapdoor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait!” Techno suddenly said, voice filled with light irritation. “Why’re you messing with my things?! You don’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>use </span>
  </em>
  <span>the farm! And </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>design choices are bad!” He pointed an accusing finger at Wilbur, who put a hand to his chest, feigning hurt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How dare you!” Wil gasped out, grateful for the lighter shift in atmosphere. “Your mind is just too </span>
  <em>
    <span>confined! </span>
  </em>
  <span>You could never comprehend my artistic choices.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno snorted, tufted tail flicking in amusement behind him as he rolled his eyes. Phil and Wilbur should keep a tally on how many times he rolled his eyes a day. “Stick to music, man. You can barely tell the difference between spruce and dark oak.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Rude!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Boys….” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re literally sittin’ in a house I designed! And you have the audacity to say that somethin’ like a farm needs your </span>
  <em>
    <span>artistic flare?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I just wanted to make the field bigger…,” Phil tried. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s boring! Just like you!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>just a personal attack. I’ll throw you out into the snow without a second thought!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then fuckin’ do it!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Over the bickering, Phil could have </span>
  <em>
    <span>sworn </span>
  </em>
  <span>he heard a faint groan coming from the unconscious boy on the bed. The scene </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>quite amusing, though, with how Wil was leaned forwards in his chair, hand motions overly animated as he gestured wildly to a bored Techno, who huffed and leaned further back into his chair as if to escape his older brother.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil opened his mouth to stop the bickering, but a soft, “Ow” caught his attention.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently it caught the attention of the others in the room, too, because they fell silent almost immediately. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy?” Wilbur breathed out, scooting forward as he reached for his brother’s hand again. “You awake?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sure enough, blue eyes blearily opened, blinking as they struggled to focus on the ceiling above him. His brows lowered in the effort it took to raise the hand that was not in the grasp of Wilbur, groaning much louder as he put his hand against his face as if to block out the light when, in reality, they couldn’t make it much darker, the thick drapes drawn and all of the torches out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Tommy croaked out, turning his head in the opposite direction of Wilbur and attempting to focus his gaze on the blurry figure that was settled on the other side of him. For some reason, he didn’t question the existence of Wil. It was probably just a dream, anyway. Ghostbur wouldn’t hold that much worry in his voice. He didn’t like negative emotions or some shit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The blob slowly came into focus and he could make out a shaded pink color that ran down from the figures head and cascaded over their shoulders, sporting a bright white shirt. Tommy could have </span>
  <em>
    <span>sworn </span>
  </em>
  <span>he saw something golden flickering on what skin he could see, but the thought was thrown out the window as the cogs in his brain finally began to spin and he processed just </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was deliriously glaring at.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi,” Tommy slurred out, a weak attempt at strength working its way into his voice. “Pig. What’re…ow…the fuck?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno raised a brow and tilted his head in amusement, relief dancing in his eyes as he watched his brother struggle to figure out who he was with and where he was. He offered a hum, though, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to overwhelm the kid moments after he woke up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Toms?” Phil now spoke, the cloudy, blue gaze shifting in the direction of the new voice. The boy could barely lift his head. “Hi, mate.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“P-Phil?” Tommy struggled out, confusion washing over his features as he let out a sigh at the effort. “Weird.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur snorted, a soft smile on his face as he peered at his brother through watery eyes, using his free hand to brush some greasy, matted hair out of Tommy’s face.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It sure is.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:D Comments and kudos are appreciated! </p>
<p>I'm honestly overwhelmed at the support that this has received~ </p>
<p>I might also be planning another story for the bedrock bros but that won't come even close to coming out until this one is finished. I'm planning on wrapping it up next chapter, though! </p>
<p>Thanks for reading!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. An Intermission in the Waking Hours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy is, as expected, sick. Techno has to deal with a delirious child and attempt to quell his own rage as he listens to the kid babble.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Friday! I was gonna edit this chapter a little later in the night but I found myself with nothing to do so I decided to do it now! This chapter is a bit longer than the others, though, so it took me a little longer to do but I think that's okay! </p>
<p>Anyways, enjoy! <br/>Hopefully this is some fluff for you &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Not five minutes after Tommy was awake, it became </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>clear that he had a fever. His face was flushed a bright red and he shivered under the three layers of blankets. He kept shifting to find another warm spot in the bed but that only resulted in him wincing in pain because the movement tugged at his wounds or the achiness in his body reacted badly to the sudden change in temperature as he only managed to hit yet another cold spot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wilbur, if you’re going to hover, do something </span>
  <em>
    <span>useful</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Techno grumbled, wringing out a rag and placing the cool cloth on Tommy’s forehead, the teen’s eyes fluttering open at the contact. It was jarring to see how…</span>
  <em>
    <span>dull </span>
  </em>
  <span>they had gotten. When Techno found him in the snow all those nights ago, the kid didn’t look any different. Sure, he was hunched over and missing the huge wings on his back, but there was still a spark in his eye (or maybe that was just the light from the torches) and defiance in his voice. Especially when he called out Techno </span>
  <em>
    <span>once again </span>
  </em>
  <span>for betraying them. “Go get food or somethin’. Phil should be nearly finished with making dinner.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ghost gave a huff, a light glare on his face as he pushed himself out of the chair that Techno began to believe was just glued to the floor at the overall lack of movement. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” Wil grumbled, begrudgingly leaving the side of his younger brother to make his way to the trapdoor, edging it open with his foot before he slid down the ladder. Did he even need to use the ladder? He still seemed pretty ghost-like. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The welcoming aroma of mutton stew wafted through the cabin and Techno let out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, stomach growling as he waited. Tommy probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything solid yet, so they planned on just giving him some broth with soft vegetables in it when he was awake enough to eat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of Tommy, Techno cocked a brow when his younger brother trained his blue gaze on the piglin once more. He had closed his eyes for a short period of time after the rag settled on his forehead but they had opened again not five minutes later. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno stayed silent, though, despite the gears that he could see turning behind Tommy’s eyes. The poor kid was delirious; he was most likely holding on to his consciousness by a thread. He would give Tommy some time to think through what he wanted to say.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno would have to slip a small amount of healing potion into his broth to ease whatever pain the kid was feeling now, he thought. It was the little things like his small winces when he took a breath or the twitch of his eyebrow when he shifted his leg.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What ‘appened to you…you’re face?” Tommy croaked out, eyes narrowing as he tried to not slur his words together. Techno took this time to reach for the glass of water on the nightstand and hold it up, Tommy’s eyes sparkling with desire that he, much to Techno’s dismay, didn’t voice. Where was the kid that demanded everything and, when he couldn’t get it, tried to swindle it instead? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the piglin gently cupped Tommy’s head and guided him to a sitting position, shaky hands wrapped around the glass, Techno said, “I got executed.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Good thing that Tommy didn’t take a sip of the water yet because, seeing how big his eyes suddenly got, Techno knew he would have choked. Techno did not want to deal with a delirious </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>choking child. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He waited patiently and gestured for the kid to drink, which he thankfully did, and began shifting the pillows around and stacking them up so Tommy could sit up without using too much of his strength. He also made sure to keep the softest pillows on top of the stack, knowing that his back was probably aching, and the last thing Techno wanted was the kid in even more pain. He was slightly amused at the way Tommy shifted the cloth to the top of his head so it wouldn’t fall off despite the impracticability of it, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“H-Huh?” Tommy managed, wiping his mouth with a bandaged hand, the cup clasped tightly in his grip. In his state, Techno didn’t think </span>
  <em>
    <span>tight </span>
  </em>
  <span>was anything more than a light squeeze, but his knuckles were white against the glass. “You…lost a life?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno didn’t want to even begin to try and unpack the look he was receiving at the moment. He tried to not squirm under the suddenly watery gaze as he grumbled, “I had a totem so I didn’t officially lose a life. The markings are from the magic healing me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The piglin watched as Tommy furiously blinked, eyes shifting to the glass in his hands before he let out a shuddering breath. Techno did the same, lowering his head and closing his eyes as he let the tension out of his shoulders, thankful that he didn’t have to deal with a crying child. The peace didn’t last for long and tension rippled through his body as warm fingers suddenly found themselves on his head, starting at his snout and shifting to under his bangs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a hiccup and the soft touch stuttered. Techno didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>move his head, instead shifting his confused gaze to Tommy through heavily lidded eyes, peering through the hair that fell in front of his eyes. His heart clenched at the sight of Tommy furiously trying to stifle his sobs by biting his lip and using his free hand to brush away the tears before they fell too far down his face. His entire body was trembling and a low grumble began to rise in Tehcno’s throat, his pupils blown a little wider as he lifted his hand to rest it on Tommy’s, which had paused at the thickest part of the golden markings. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Protect. Protect! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Help him! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Make him feel better! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m okay, Tommy,” Techno purred out, softening the edges of his voice so he didn’t upset the kid any more. “They’re just like scars. They don’t hurt at all.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-You got h-hurt,” Tommy whined out, the empty glass forgotten as he used his other hand to rest on Techno’s snout. The piglin </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>the way the thin and bruised hands shook. He didn’t want to see his little brother crying over something so futile. He didn’t want to see his little brother crying </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I’m s-sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This had Techno’s ears flicking and his brows drew up a little as he said, “This is not your fault, Tommy. I’m okay. It’s okay.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Crying! He’s crying! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What do you do? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Protect him! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Kill whoever made him cry! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Who made him like this?! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sadinnit! Sadinnit! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Where is Wilbur when you need him?!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy didn’t respond but the fact that he didn’t dissolve into harsher sobs let Techno relax slightly. He didn’t remove his hand from its place on top of Tommy’s, but the kid’s other hand started exploring the aftermath of the dark magic once more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You must…not feel good,” Tommy whispered, viciously biting his bottom lip in an attempt to stop the cries from leaving his mouth again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno paused. He felt just fine. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy </span>
  </em>
  <span>who was sick and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy </span>
  </em>
  <span>who lost his wings and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy </span>
  </em>
  <span>who had been exiled by his best friend. In comparison to the child soldier, Techno felt wonderful! But then he remembered that Tommy had never had to use a totem before and suddenly seeing golden markings on his brother’s head must have made him freak out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It hurt, yes,” the piglin began, shifting in his seat so he could lean a little closer to the boy, allowing Tommy to rest against the pillows so he wouldn't use up too much energy fussing over him. “But then it didn’t. I’m not lyin’ to you when I say that they are just scars.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Carefully guiding Tommy’s right hand down from his head, he gave a breathy chuckle as the boy gripped it as if his life depended on it, but his chest squeezed at how weak it was. Tommy bounced back fast, though. Techno hoped so, at least. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy’s other hand stayed on his snout and his dull eyes appeared to cloud over, the tears thankfully slowing but the boy began to get lost in his thoughts. Techno didn’t want him to be there right now, so he let the purr in his chest grow a little louder, hopefully acting as an anchor for the boy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The voices must be loud, huh?” Techno mumbled, and he was glad to see the boy was coherent enough to give a faint nod. “That’s okay. Just tell ‘em that it’s not your fault and that I’m okay, all right? No worries.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are…Are you sure?” Tommy murmured out, hand now fiddling with the ring around his right tusk and the piglin huffed a laugh, his breath displacing some of Tommy’s blond hair. Personal space didn’t matter right now. His little brother needed comfort. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure, Tommy,” Techno said, a smile tugging at his face as he watched the tears slow to a stop. Tommy removed his hand from Techno’s face after a moment of silence to wipe away a few stray tears, but his other hand remained firmly in place, their fingers interlocked, allowing Techno to give it a reassuring squeeze, which made Tommy sigh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I’m gonna beat you up for…for those wither,” Tommy grumbled out, brows bunched together as his tearful gaze suddenly turned into a glare, barely focused on Techno at all. From the way Tommy’s head swayed slightly as he fought to keep his head up, the piglin doubted that Tommy could see him clearly. “Bitch.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay,” Techno huffed, rolling his eyes. Tommy bristled and pushed his hand under him as he sat up once more, poorly hiding his whine as pain shocked through him. “Kid, sit back. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope!” Tommy slurred out. All traces of his tears were gone and he squirmed in the bed, free hand moving to grab the jacket that was draped over the blankets but, as his hand touched the surface, he recoiled as if he was burned. “Evil.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cocking a brow, Techno shook his head, opening his hand and moving to pull it out of Tommy’s grip. It did not work much in his favor as the boy yelped in surprise, sudden fear filling his eyes as he lurched forwards, grabbing Techno’s hand once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I your prisoner now?” the piglin joked lightly and Tommy gave a defiant nod, thankfully complying when Techno gently pushed him back against the pillows. The rag was still firmly placed on his head, but it was clearly doing no good. If it made Tommy happy, though, then Techno would wait until he was asleep before taking it back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yuh,” the kid stated, letting his head lay back against the pillow, blue eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, tracing the spruce logs that acted as support for the pointed roof. The smell of their dinner only got stronger and Techno shifted in his seat as his stomach rolled. Seeing how skinny Tommy wasーtaking into account that he was also sick, so he probably had no appetiteーthe kid probably barely noticed his own hunger. Techno hated to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t escaped from wherever he had been hidden away. “You’ll leave me with…with the evil jacket! It’s so bad.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The evil jacket?” the older inquired, humming as he grabbed the ripped up sleeve that hung over the side of the bed. “How is it bad?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy turned his head slightly to the side only to scowl at Techno, making the piglin think that, in that little head of his it must be common knowledge. It, in fact, was anything but. Tommy chose not to respond.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The creaking of wood echoed through the silent room. “How’s that back of yours, Toms?” a new voice asked. It was much softer, the sound bringing in a welcoming wind of calm. Techno was pleased when the voices quieted to a faint murmur as Phil climbed his way in, Wilbur close on his tail. Phil’s wings were tightly pressed against his back as to not jostle them too much on the way up the ladder and Techno dimly wondered how much effort it had to take to keep them cloaked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Da-Dadza,” Tommy struggled out, nose scrunching up as Wilbur drifted over to take the rag off of Tommy’s head and dunk it into the bucket of cold water once more, wringing it out before placing it back on his forehead. The teen sighed, eyes fluttering closed once more. “Wil, evil jacket.” He lifted a weak hand to point at the tan jacket sprawled out on the bed and Wilbur snorted, grabbing it before he settled back down in his seat at the other side of the bed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno, with his left hand still firmly in Tommy’s grasp, reached for the bowl of stew that Phil had brought up for him gratefully, nodding his thanks as his tail flicked behind him. Tommy had decided to not respond to Phil. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Even in this state, he still avoids the hard questions,” Phil mused, settling himself on the blue rug at the foot of the bed. Techno </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>have offered his chair, but he was trapped by the small child. “I am glad to see you awake, though, Tommy. Would you like some stew later?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur was running his hand though Tommy’s hair as the kid said, “Yeah. I think ‘m hungry. Can I ‘ave bread, too?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s see if you can stomach the broth first, mate,” Phil explained, his own bowl settled in his hands. He waited for Techno to start eating before he took his first bite. “I don’t want to upset your stomach more than it already might be.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got an iron tummy!” Tommy objected, moving to point a finger at his stomach like that proved anything. “Oh, hi Wil.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno rolled his eyes as Wilbur chuckled, a confused grin growing on his face as he said, “Hi, Toms. I took the evil jacket away.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, good,” Techno heard Tommy murmur. “Don’t want it ruinin’ the vibe.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind of vibes are those?” Wil inquired, brushing his own hair out of his face this time. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Badass vibes.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The only vibes you’re giving off right now are sick ones,” Techno objected, grinning as he watched his little brother sputter, ready to raise his voice to object but his blue eyes caught sight of something in front of him and the words seemed to die in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thick tension was suddenly rolling off Tommy and Techno allowed confusion to enter his gaze as he watched the kid clench his eyes closed, gripping his hand with a little more fervor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy?” Wil murmured, tilting his head to the side. Techno’s ear flicked as he saw Phil shift, the realization causing the man to bunch up his wings before the black and silver feathers melted into his cape once more. A pained look was in his eyes but a smile was still on his face. “Are you okay?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a long, thick beat of silence before the boy whimpered, “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m fine.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re clearly not,” Wilbur pressed gently, adjusting the rag on the boy’s forehead. He thankfully didn’t look so flushed anymore, but his hand was still warm. His fever probably wouldn’t break until another day or so. “What’s on your mind?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy didn’t open his eyes as he said, “‘M back feels weird. I don’t wanna look.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s okay,” Phil cooed, placing his nearly empty bowl on a chest off to the side of the room, shifting as he stood on his feet. He swept over to the boy, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed as he reassured, “You don’t have to look now. Do you wanna talk about it?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy’s eyes squinted open and Techno’s chest tightened as they glistened once more. He gave Tommy’s hand another squeeze as a few stray tears rolled down his little brother’s face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno’s voices were suddenly rampaging in his mind once more and he hid his wince as he shifted in his chair. Now was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the time to be angry. Tommy didn’t need to see the rage in his eyes right now. Techno wouldn’t let Tommy see what he was really feeling. He didn’t want to scare him. Who knows what happened to him in exile; Techno didn’t want to terrify the boy with misdirected anger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My head ‘s all fucked up,” Tommy groaned out, sucking in a sharp breath as he draped his arm over his eyes, shielding them from view. His lower lip trembled still as he spoke. “H-He said he was my </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Confused glances were shared among the other three, but Wilbur broke it as his ghostly form suddenly crackled, his brown eyes igniting with fury as he gripped the armrest on the chair he was sitting in. It looked as if lightning was traveling through his brother’s body, bouncing off of the edges of its casing before it found a weak spot. It was silent as it broke off pieces of Wil’s wrist, side, shoulder…it was mere seconds until he was back in one piece. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wil…,” Phil warned, a firm hand on Tommy’s shoulder as his blue eyes cast a warning over to his eldest. Techno could see Wil grit his teeth but nod, the lightning tampering off as fast as it came. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil’s attention was quickly shifted to his youngest, who had subconsciously shifted away from Wilbur in his silent rage. “Who are you talking about, mate? Do you think you can tell me?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Small gasps and sobs filled the silent room before Tommy nodded, opening and closing his mouth a few times to try and speak but ultimately getting cut off by his own cries. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno wanted to wrap up his little brother and hold him close and </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>let go. He wanted Tommy to be warm and </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t want him to go through </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>of this; his own words began to ring through his head as the voices collided with the barrier he had tried to set up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then die like one! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is not a hero’s death! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Technosad! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then die like one! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Blood for the Blood God! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>One of us! One of us! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>End them all. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The voices had lost control that day at the festival. The peer pressure of everyone around him and the overwhelmingly loud noises in his head pushed him far over the edge. It felt like he was shoved away from his own mind. He had lost his footing and fell, fully expecting to hit something solid but he never did. He fell further and, the deeper he went into his own mind, the darker his surroundings became. The white eyes watching him were the only form of light where he was headed and he remembered them looking up before they seemed to blink out of existence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno hated losing control. No. That was wrong. He hated </span>
  <em>
    <span>waking up </span>
  </em>
  <span>from losing control. He hated the splitting headache that would plague him for days after and he hated having dreams about what the voices made him do, seeing it happen through his own eyes despite the fact that he had been disconnected with his own body. Sometimes he even hated the blood on his hands when he came to, unable to put names or faces to the corpses littered around him and only left with the fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he had done this. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had hurt his family once. Wil and he were roughhousing in the backyard as an infant, Tommy, watched on with Phil, who was cradling both the child and a book in his lap. It was a quiet day and the boys were antsy after having to stay inside to let the storms pass so now that they were free they were going all out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wil had Techno pinned. The boy could barely remember what Wil had said now that he thought back on it, but whatever it was had set him off. The barrier in his mind shattered into a million pieces and he fell into a deep, dark part of his mind. He remembered screaming and scratching at the darkness, </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be let back into his own head. He couldn’t do anything as the voices grabbed at him and pulled him deeper and deeper, away from the light and away from the brother that he was probably hurting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There wasn’t a lot of blood, but Wilbur had a broken nose and a fresh wound on his jaw that Techno had apparently put there with his nails. As the boy grew older, Techno still found that he couldn’t look at the faint scar on Wilbur’s face without shuddering. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it was hypocritical of Techno to want to protect Tommy from all of the harm the world had to offer when he inflicted so much pain on the boy himself. Part of him wanted to argue that it was the voices…that he had nothing to do with it, but he knew that was wrong. He did it with his own hands and he had the memories to prove it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All he could do now was try to make amends.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dream…Where’s Dream?” Tommy croaked out, removing his arm from his face as his eyes widened. “He’s going…He’s gonna be so mad! I have to get back…!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The kid wasted no time as he sat up and tried to squirm out of the bed. With his hand still in Techno’s and Phil’s grip still on his shoulder, he didn’t get too far.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah, it’s okay!” Phil said, surprise clear in his gaze as he tried to coax the boy back down. Techno could feel that the boy was suddenly shaking. “We’ve got you. Dream isn’t going to hurt you. We won’t let him, yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy freed his hand from Techno’s grip and the piglin bit down a grunt of protest before he watched his brother reach out for Phil, sobs ripping through his body as Phil wrapped him in a gentle and protective hug. Tommy’s face was buried in his shoulder and he gripped Phil’s cloak like his life depended on it, Phil’s head tilted to rest on Tommy’s as he murmured words of comfort, rubbing the back of Tommy’s neck and keeping an arm around his waist so he wouldn’t fall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Over the pair, Techno shared a look with Wilbur. The form of his older brother crackled once more as Techno let his shoulders bunch up and his eyes shine with the white hot rage he had been tethering. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If the circumstances were different, Techno would have been smiling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It seems as if we have someone to kill. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated! You don't have to, of course, but I would love to hear your thoughts! :D </p>
<p>Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful night! <br/>Byeeeee!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. At Least he was Safe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW/CW: panic attack, impacts of abuse/manipulation, PTSD, and a very brief mention of non-consensual potion use near the end of the chapter :O Stay safe! </p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Ayup fellows! Happy Saturday! Long chapter long chapter!!</p>
<p>How are you all doing?? I was GOING to have this chapter ready last night but my mind went *microwave noises* and didn't let me finish/edit it until today lmaoooo. I hope the comfort in this chapter makes up for some of the pain I have inflicted on you all :)</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk about it?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a week since Tommy had woken up and the teen could feel the tension hanging in the air. It was thick and suffocating and Tommy did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>like it. But he wasn’t about to sit at the kitchen table and pretend like everything was okay because it </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not like he was going to admit it, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur wasn’t fucking deadーor he was, Tommy wasn’t sure and he decided he wasn’t in the right headspace to even be caring about that right nowーand he had all of his memories. He was treating Tommy like he had all of those years ago…</span>
  <em>
    <span>before L’Manburg.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Before Pogtopia. Before they decided to have an adventure of their own, only to have their happiness ripped out from under them, leaving them gasping for breath as everything came crashing down once more. Tommy didn’t want to know what brought Wil’s soul back together, but he had a sinking feeling he might have been the one to cause it. He hoped it wasn’t painful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil was…well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Phil. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was there, all right. Tommy tried his best not to act too soft and lean too into the gentle touches his father would give him, thankfully asking before he even raised a hand in his direction because Tommy was so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>pathetic </span>
  </em>
  <span>that he couldn’t even handle a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gesture </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his direction without flinching. His father seemed to want to make some form of amends, though; Tommy would indulge him for the time being, not too sure if those wounds of the past wanted to be prodded at too much yet. He commended the man for trying, though, and felt his shoulders losing some of their tension when he heard a faint apology muttered or when he woke up to see the man asleep next to the bed, deciding to stay with Tommy instead of curling up in his own nest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Technobladeーoh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Techno! </span>
  </em>
  <span>A traitorous bastard, that one was! Tommy wasn’t too sure about the whole “being the reason he is alive” thing since the man had absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>no reason </span>
  </em>
  <span>to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to save him. The last thing he clearly remembered his brother telling him was to die like a hero (Tommy would never admit that these words stung more than he expected them to, the voices in his head playing them on loop when he began to spiral) before the screams of the wither drowned out the rest of the noise in his head. Sure, he had come to see Tommy in exile but the boy wasn’t sure what the difference between up from down was so excuse him for being a little harsh when his older brother came to </span>
  <em>
    <span>mock him </span>
  </em>
  <span>because Techno was </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>right and this is just something that happened because government was the root of all evil or some bullshit like that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy wasn’t even sure if the visit from Techno was a hallucination or not. He was too afraid to ask. He was too afraid. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The biggest problem out of it all was practically glaring right into his face, but he would shrug by like nothing was wrong. He would push himself to his feet and pretend like he didn’t stumble forward and have to be caught by Phil because he almost toppled to the ground. He would hide every bolt of agony with a cough or barely noticeable wince, chalking it up to being something </span>
  <em>
    <span>other </span>
  </em>
  <span>than what he wanted to badly to avoid coming to terms with. Because there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no way. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It simply wasn’t possible. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream wouldn’t do that</span>
  </em>
  <span>ー</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dream. Dream was the biggest problem. Was he a problem? It was hard to tell, especially through the fog in his mind as he tried to rip through the fever that clung to him and nearly refused to break. It was a thick fog and Tommy was dimly reminded of smoke before his mind was sent reeling once more. He didn’t like smoke. He didn’t like the explosions or the ashes that would rain down overhead and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh my god was that burning flesh where were his wings someone help</span>
  </em>
  <span>ー</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shifting his position on the bed, Tommy was alone. For the first time since he woke up, the boy was completely alone, Wilbur practically being ripped from his side as Techno grumbled something about chores. To be fair, Tommy didn’t think chores were more important than himself, but he would let it slide for now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He really didn’t let it slide because some dark part of him was nagging that they didn’t even want to be around him; that they made excuses to get away so they didn’t hurt him more than he already was. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shaky hands found their way to his scalp and he sighed through his nose, closing his eyes as he tried to steel himself in the present. He could feel his mind being dragged back and he was honestly half expecting this all to be some form of fucked up nightmare. Wouldn’t that be fun to wake up to? A family that had broken apart years prior coming together to take care of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>only to wake up and be face to face with Dream once more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pain woke people up from dreams, right? He was in a shitload of pain right now, so why wasn’t he waking up? There was no way that </span>
  <em>
    <span>any </span>
  </em>
  <span>of this was happening. Even if it was, it made no sense. Why would Techno even spare him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>glance, </span>
  </em>
  <span>let alone take him into his little cottage and nurse him back to health like he had cared all along? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He has cared all along. You ruined it. You stabbed him in the back. This is your fault. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His head was sore. A dull ache was beginning to rise behind his eyes and his scalp was tender, the skin still recovering from Dream’s painful grip. He tried not to whimper at the thought, a shudder ripping its way through his body. He struggled into a sitting position as his breath began to pick up. There was no way he was going to survive here. He was the root of all of their problems. Why would they want him around? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Pity, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dream’s whispered. It sliced through the sudden noise in his head like a knife and Tommy brought his shaking hands to cover his mouth, tears beginning to sting his eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You know this. Why would they want to keep you around if you weren’t in such a pathetic state? When you needed them the most, they didn’t come. They don’t care. Watch…when you recover you will be tossed out like the trash.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop,” Tommy choked out, voice barely above a whisper as he brought his knees up. The bandages wrapped around his torso tugged and stretched uncomfortably as he folded into himself. “Please…</span>
  <em>
    <span>stop it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re not enough. You lost the most important thing about you. What do you have left? What do you have left to give them? Your instincts? You know that’s not enough. You should go back. Go back to Dream. He knows what you’re worth. He knows how to make you feel better. He always does, right? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A sob racked through his body, causing him to clutch at his mouth tighter and squeeze his eyes closed. His forehead was resting on his knees while his right arm was tightly hugging them to his chest. That was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream wasn’t his friend! Dream only wanted to control him! He blew up everything he worked for! He…He </span>
  <em>
    <span>took his wings! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Kill Dream! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No! Don’t hurt him! Go back! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was only teaching you a lesson…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck that! He’s a monster! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah right! How could he hold a record for speedrunning and be a monster at the same time?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck you! With a mask like that?! Bad news! Bad news! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop!” Tommy cried out, hands flying to his ears as he tried to quiet the roaring in his head. His fingernails dug into the soft skin of his scalp as he choked on his own breath, feeling hands begin wrap around his throat and force him to the ground as he tried to plead for forgiveness that wouldn't come. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe! </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His hands were suddenly being pried from his head with a firm grip and he let out a scream, eyes flying open as he kicked out, attempting to free himself from Dream’s clutches because </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god he didn’t want to go back! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t want to go back! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t!” Tommy sobbed, terror filling his gaze as he tried to scramble away from the shadow that loomed above him. It was so dark. His ears were ringing. There was another explosion, wasn’t there? That was why he couldn’t breathe. He could smell the smoke as it clogged up his lungs but still, he tried fighting. He knew he shouldn’t. “Don’t take me back! I’m sorry! Please! I-I’m sorry!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a rumble of a response but Tommy couldn’t hear it. His chest heaved and his lungs screamed, his heart beating a million times per </span>
  <em>
    <span>second. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>see anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>and there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>smoke </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Dream was holding him and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>freaking out</span>
  </em>
  <span>ー</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“D-Don’t taーtake anything else,” Tommy choked out, back pressed against something cold and flat. “I d-don’t have anything else. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The grip around his wrists lessened at these words and Tommy felt a small sliver of pain in his chest flutter away. But that didn’t matter when a completely different problem was staring him right in the face: he had freaked out </span>
  <em>
    <span>in front of Dream. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream hated it when he cried and Tommy wasn’t allowed to speak and he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no right </span>
  </em>
  <span>to ask anything of Dream, even after everything the man had given himー</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to slow your breathing,” Dream said, voice unnaturally soft and </span>
  <em>
    <span>caring. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why was that unnatural? Dream cared. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Didn’t he? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He would give Tommy potions after he got hurtー</span>
  <em>
    <span>you were only hurt because of Dream</span>
  </em>
  <span>ーand he would give him hugs when he was having a rough nightー</span>
  <em>
    <span>only after he belittled you and reinstated the fact that no one cared</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The tone of voice was strange. “Can you do that, Toms? Can you match my breathing?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy glossed over the nickname, barely giving it a second thought as his mind focused on what Dream wanted him to do. He would have to try because if he didn’t he would get reprimanded or hurt and Dream would take away something elseー</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Dream murmured, taking exaggerated breaths so Tommy could attempt to match them. Gentle fingers carded through his hair and the boy suppressed a whimper. He wanted to melt at the touch; he wanted to stay there forever but he knew he didn’t deserve it. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re doing good. A few more breaths, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The hand that grabbed his wrist this time wasn’t as firm as before as it was guided to Dream’s chest. Tommy could feel the rise and fall with every breath the man took and he tried his hardest to copy it, interrupting himself with choked sobs only to be gently comforted with soft words he could barely hear and kind touches.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know where you are?” Dream asked, deeming it safe enough to ask a question when Tommy wasn’t struggling to breathe anymore. Sobs still shook his thin frame and caught in his throat, but the panic wasn’t blinding him. He was okay. Dream said it was okay.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“L-Logstedshire…?” Tommy breathed, more of a question than anything. Why was he asking? It wasn’t like Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>moved. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a beat of silence and Tommy felt himself freeze. He tensed up and tried to pull his hand back but Dream held fast. He could feel the panic begin to rise in his chest again because </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god he said something wrong this wasn’t good Dream was being nice to him and he was so uncertain</span>
  </em>
  <span>ー “Do you know who </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was weird. Why was Dream not laughing at him? Why wasn’t he calling him an idiot for being so…</span>
  <em>
    <span>flighty? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dream…,” Tommy tried now, brows furrowed as he stared at his knees that were still tucked under thick blankets. Blankets? He didn’t remember these blankets in his tent…. “I’m sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” the voice cooed, hand rubbing at his scalp now. It was reassuring and he felt himself lean into it despite his best efforts not to. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>clingy. “Can you look at me?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was given permission to look up so he dragged his gaze from the quilt that was laid over him to the thin fingers that were gently wrapped around his hand and pressed to a firm chest to then a pointed chin and finally brown eyes. Brown eyes? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wil?” Tommy breathed, confusion pouring into his blue eyes and spilling out as a few loose tears, which his brother wiped away with his thumb, hand now resting on his cheek. “What are you…What are you doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The smile that Tommy received almost made him sob again. It was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>gentle </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>loving. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was nothing in his eyes that gave Tommy the impression that he was faking it. Wilbur had a kind sparkle…nothing like the wicked glare that he had back in Pogtopia. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ah. That was right. Wilbur was revived? No, not quite. He was still quite dead and still held a ghostly form but he wasn’t Ghostbur anymore. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We are in Techno’s house, remember?” Wil murmured, tilting his head to the side in inquiry. It was quite funny, almost reminding Tommy of a canine. “Techno is downstairsー”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The trapdoor flung open and Tommy flinched back, ripping himself free from his brother’s grasp as he tried to hide from the sudden form that appeared to be crawling into the room. He was shaking again, the ringing in his ears kicking back up before he heard a gentle </span>
  <em>
    <span>snort-chuff-snort.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peeking an eye open, Tommy’s gaze landed on the piglin that had frozen halfway into the room. His ears were flicking around in an anxious manner and his red eyes landed on Tommy before ripping back to Wilbur and then landing back on Tommy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Tommy said gently, weakly raising a hand as he visibly deflated back into Wilbur’s grasp, letting a shaky breath out of his aching chest. Techno hesitated for a few long moments before he let a comforting purr rise into his throat, pulling himself the rest of the way into the room only to settle on the blue rug at the foot of the bed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello,” Techno murmured back, using an impossibly soft voice. It felt like Tommy could reach out and stroke it, but he kept his hands in his lap as his fingers anxiously twisted in the blankets. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there anything you need, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Techno?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Wil asked, voice chipped and clearly annoyed. Tommy winced as his incorporeal form crackled for a second. Tommy saw a brown gaze flicker over to him and the boy noticed Wil’s shoulders fall after a split second. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The piglin looked just as uncomfortable as Tommy felt, his own hands fidgeting with the carpet; the hem of his ruffled shirt; his earrings as he murmured, “Phil wanted to know if you guys were feelin’ up to goin’ to the pasture.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur opened his mouth (probably to object) but was interrupted by a small voice echoing, “Pasture?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno gave a snort of approval and Tommy felt a little more tension release from his shoulders, glad the purr was kept in Tehcno’s voice as he explained, “It’s where I keep the animals I tame. Phil says I have a hoardin’ problem, especially with wolves. I haven’t been able to see ‘em today and I still gotta feed ‘em so Phil brought up the fact that you two might want to come.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wolves?” Tommy mumbled. “Do you have other animals?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wil stayed silent as he listened to the conversation with a gentle smile on his face, hand returning to Tommy’s hair. The boy suddenly felt very self-conscious as he hadn’t had it properly cleaned in </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but Wilbur didn’t seem to mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got a few polar bears, three foxes now,” Techno listed, counting off with his clawed fingers, sending a glare towards Wil at the mention of foxes (most likely referencing the newest member, Francis), and cows that I use toー”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cows?!” Tommy squeaked, blue eyes suddenly shining with the light of a thousand suns. The sudden outburst shocked Techno to silence and Tommy felt his smile fall along with his heart. Oh shit. He interrupted. Dream hated it when he interrupted. It was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Techno was being so nice to him allowing him to stayー</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Techno responded, words cutting through Tommy’s spiraling thoughts. “Those aren’t too domesticated, though. I use them forーow! What the heck, Wilbur?!” The hybrid was interrupted as Wil leaned forwards and smacked him upside the head, causing pink hair to tumble into his face and cover some of the new golden scars.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Red eyes met fierce brown ones and Tommy suddenly felt like he was caught in the middle of something between the pair. It looked like they were standing off, having a silent argument with just their </span>
  <em>
    <span>eyes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Creepy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Tommy felt like the silence dragged on for too long, he awkwardly cleared his throat and both gazes flicked to him, making him shrink back against the pillows as he offered a weak, “Did I say something wrong?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” both of them blurted, worry and some other fiery emotion rising in their eyes. Tommy flinched at the sudden volume change and felt the hand in his hair move to his cheek once more as Wil said, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, Toms. It’s okay to ask questions. I just didn’t want Techno to say something that might upset you.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if proving a point, the eldest shot a glare over to the hybrid, who’s snout wrinkled with a frown before he let his eyes roll in a dramatic manner, sighing through his nose, putting a pause to the purring much to Tommy’s dismay. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just </span>
  <em>
    <span>gonna</span>
  </em>
  <span> say that I got one in my basement as well,” Techno grumbled, rubbing the back of his head and pretending like the slap from Wilbur hurt. “You seemed interested in cows so I thought you would want a clamer one instead of the wild ones in my barn.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Tommy breathed, absentmindedly grabbing Wilbur’s hand and gently tugging and twisting his fingers. He missed the fond smile that was sent his way. “Are we going now?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you up for it?” Wilbur inquired. “I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard.” The </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially after you just had a panic attack </span>
  </em>
  <span>was left unsaid, but Tommy could hear it loud and clear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m all right,” Tommy assured, giving a firm nod only to regret it instantly as pain stabbed through his head. He almost completely forgot about his headache and he was rudely reminded of it as he brought a hand to his head and groaned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve got some weak health pots if you want one of those for your pain,” Techno offered and Tommy looked up at the man through a half closed eye before nodding.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, please,” Tommy mumbled, pulling his hand away from Wil’s grip as he began to tug the blanket off of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He ignored the way Wilbur gasped and said, “Woah! Did the little gremlin actually say ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>please?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> The world is ending!” He couldn’t ignore the way his older brother threw his arms up in a dramatic fashion and nearly toppled onto Tommy in the form of a hug, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t accept hugs unless Techno is part of them!” Tommy loudly announced, voice muffled as his face was buried in Wilbur’s chest. The boy allowed himself to breathe in his scent and ignored the lingering smell of gunpowder and smoke, focusing more on the gentle smell of pine and the suddenly overwhelming smell of metal as a new pressure pressed against his side. Tommy snickered and peeked up at Techno, who rolled his eyes again before pulling away from the hug pile.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“All right, all right,” the hybrid huffed, the rumbling purr rising in his chest once more as he stood up and gently pushed at Wilbur to get the man to uncoil from Tommy. “Phil is waitin’.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon, Wil,” Tommy mumbled into his brother’s sweater, gently smacking his arm to try and loosen the hold. “Don’t want Phil to die of old age waitin’ for us.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur huffed a laugh into Tommy’s blond curls before he pulled away and gave the kid the </span>
  <em>
    <span>kindest </span>
  </em>
  <span>look he had received in what felt like </span>
  <em>
    <span>years. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Adoration and </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>protection </span>
  </em>
  <span>shone in his eyes and he smiled at Tommy with the softest smile and fuck he was crying again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m okay!” Tommy yelped, rapidly wiping at his eyes as he pushed Wilbur away from him with his feet, pulling a chuckle out of the older man as he floated to the ground on his back. “I’m okay! That came out of fuckin’ nowhere.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With dry eyes he ignored the concerned look he was being given by Techno and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Techno took a step back to give him some room, hands at his sides but Tommy could see the way his fingers twitched. For good reason, too. The last time Tommy tried to walk he fell straight to the floor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, Tommy used his hands to push himself up and off the plush bed. His legs were weak and sore and he put just a little too much weight into leaning forwards, trying to accommodate weight that was no longer there, and stumbled. A strong hand landed on his bandaged chest and held onto his bicep to make sure he didn’t fall right onto his face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Tommy mumbled, ears suddenly blazing with embarrassment as he pushed through the dread that began to rise in his chest. He would have to get used to </span>
  <em>
    <span>walking </span>
  </em>
  <span>again. He didn’t have his </span>
  <em>
    <span>wings. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If only he didn’t talk back and just did what he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span>ー</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s go!” Wilbur cheered, lifting the trapdoor open once more and jumping down, practically phasing through the floor instead of using the ladder much to the amusement of the other two in the room, who shared a look before making their way over themselves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you need me to go first and help you down?” Techno asked, voice gruff as he tried to keep the purr steady and the clear worry out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I…I think I’m good,” Tommy mumbled, brows furrowed as he settled himself on the rug with the help of his older brother. He shuffled forward so his legs were dangling from the opening in the floor as he reached for the ladder, wrapping his fingers around it before he hooked his feet on the first rung before beginning to carefully make his way down. It was, thankfully, much easier than he initially imagined (despite being awake and allowed to wander the house, Phil sternly stated that he would only go down the ladder with their help).</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Keeping his body as close to the ladder as he could when his feet finally reached the bottom, he felt the cool wood under him as he stepped away, arms out to balance himself before he began falling forwards once more.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit!” he cursed, but Wilbur was there to catch him as he stumbled backwards, trying to shift the weight but to no avail. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur was laughing as he steadied the youngest, leading him over to the couch and settling him down before he slipped over to the nearest chest and pulled it open, head disappearing into it as he began to rifle through the contents within.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, mate,” Phil cooed, blue eyes soft and kind and </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe </span>
  </em>
  <span>as he approached Tommy from the kitchen, holding out a mug of something warm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Tommy chirped back, putting a little more energy into his response as he nodded his thanks, the intoxicating smell of hot chocolate driving him to take a sip of the liquid before hissing as it burned his tongue. He cursed again, sticking his tongue out as Phil chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>just finish boiling it,” the avian teased, settling down on the couch next to his youngest. Techno said their father was waiting for them but he just came from the kitchen with hot chocolate for Tommy. He wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>waiting! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy could have stayed in bed longer! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A dull </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud </span>
  </em>
  <span>shook the ground as Techno hopped down and closed the trapdoor behind him, turning around only to pause when he saw his older brother rummaging around in his chest. Tommy could practically see his instincts flare up at the fact that one of his littermates was touching </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>things, pupils dilating. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your pig is showing, Tech,” Tommy playfully called, gently leaning back against the couch and tucking himself into his father’s side, who gave a surprised trill. Phil didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around his youngest and Tommy snickered at the struggle he could feel his father having to try and resist the urge to chirp and call out his happiness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy decided to ignore the voice in the back of his head saying he didn’t deserve it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut it,” Techno grumbled, shaking his head as he brushed past to a chest on the other side of the fireplace, lifting the lid and reaching in for only a short moment before pulling out a glass bottle with pinkish-red liquid sloshing around inside of it. It was only half filled and the color was quite dull, which probably meant that it was much safer to use on a much weaker person, hence why Techno strode over and handed it to Tommy, who grabbed it with his left hand, his warm mug in his right.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This gonna taste like shit?” Tommy asked, scrunching up his nose as he flicked his gaze up to Techno, who was giving him an expectant look. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably,” the hybrid responded, causing Phil to snort and hide his smirk in Tommy’s curls. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Great,” the boy droned, shuddering as he pushed the feeling of a potion being forced down his throat to the back of his mind. He was being given an option. He didn’t have to take it if he didn’t want to. But his head </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>and his back </span>
  <em>
    <span>ached </span>
  </em>
  <span>and everything </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucked. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Phil thankfully grabbed the mug from Tommy as the boy fiddled with the cork, twisting it and sending a glare to Techno to signify that he did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>want an audience. The hybrid huffed and turned away, striding over to Wil who was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>rummaging. What the fuck was he looking for? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop </span>
  </em>
  <span>as Tommy pulled the cork free and he jumped a little at the sound, blinking his surprise away before taking a deep breath and pulling the glass to his lips. He ignored his shaking hand as he tilted his head back and tipped the bottle up, feeling the liquid pour into his mouth and down his throat as he attempted to down it in one go.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was sour and bitter and it tasted like spoiled alcohol as it slid over his tongue, the sweetness of the melon lost to the nether wart and gold. He didn’t know how people could eat glistening melons on their own. They were hard and tasted just like how coins smelled. But to make them into a potion with a nether-grown ingredient and some blaze powder? Tommy didn’t think that the warmth that spread through his body was worth it. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>dull his headache and calm the irritation on his back, though, so he </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was okay.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You should see your face!” Wilbur suddenly cackled, lifting his head out of the chest with a bundle of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his arms. Tommy sent him the middle finger as he handed the bottle to Phil, who placed it on the end table next to him and handed the boy back his warm drink. “You look so stupid!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You always look stupid!” Tommy shot back, bringing the mug up to his face and taking an angry sip as he listened to Wilbur’s teasing chirps and coos. It was easy to forget that he was, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>used to be, </span>
  </em>
  <span>an avian, too. Tommy added, “Dickhead!” for good measure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever, child,” Wilbur buzzed, amusement dancing in his eyes as he slid over to them, holding out the bundle in his arms as Tommy cocked his head to the side in a silent question. “Yes, this is for you. It’s some clothes you can change into since you probably don’t want to be going outside without a shirt on.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno snorted from his new place in the kitchen and Tommy silently decided that if he ended up cold, he would just tuck into the piglin’s side. Or Phil’s side. Despite how painful it was to see his father’s wings, they were so safe and warm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Tommy murmured, gently taking the shirt with his free hand as his blue eyes trailed over the thick, white fabric of the shirt and the black jacket folded under it. He shifted forward when Phil nudged him and grabbed his mug once more so it didn’t accidentally spill.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Need help, Toms?” Phil gently asked as he saw Tommy fiddling with the shirt first, brows furrowed in contemplation that he didn’t feel comfortable enough to voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t…think I can lift my arms high enough,” he mumbled and his father gave him an understanding smile as he scooted so he was facing his youngest, the mug on the table in front of them as he held out his hands for the clothing. “Is it okay if I help you out and take the shirt for a moment?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had learned the hard way not to ask Tommy for anything without giving him an option to say no. The incident was just over a bowl, too, and Tommy was sent into a near panic when Wil asked for it so he could go clean it up. Tommy’s rapid apologies and sobs jolted Techno out of his slumber and Phil out of his comfortable daze by the window as they tried to calm their youngest down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy stayed silent as he nodded, not too sure if he was feeling embarrassment or helplessness. Each time he apologized for needing their help, though, they assured him that it was okay and that he was strong for being able to reach out to them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold out your arms on front of you,” Phil hummed and Tommy did so, watching carefully as Phil unfolded the shirt and began tugging it onto Tommy, gently pulling the sleeves around his arms and over his head, making sure the fabric didn’t catch on any of the bandages before adjusting the white shirt. “This is one of Techno’s older shirts, it seems.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why I’m swimming in it,” Tommy gently joked, feeling the weight on his chest disappear as Phil chuckled, a few comforting chirps pulling Tommy out of his daze, a noise which he echoed without much of a thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rolling up the sleeves a bit and cuffing the hems, Phil hummed in contemplation before he nodded, saying, “You can put your arms down now, Toms.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” the boy murmured, which resulted in his father trying to imitate the purring sound Techno made to try and comfort him. It was too high and sharp but Tommy found his shoulders dropping once more as his mug was handed back to him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ready to head out?” Techno asked, voice much closer now as he leaned against the doorframe, brow raised. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur and Phil gave Tommy a soft but questioning look and, at the thought of seeing some of the cows and polar bears, the boy nodded happily.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah!” he chirped, voice fading to a quick whistle as he grabbed at the jacket in his lap. Phil, thankfully, helped him shrug it on before grabbing the two pairs of socks and sliding them on for him. There were some boots waiting at the door for him and, for once, Tommy didn’t feel like absolute shit after his little attack. Sure, he wanted to stay in bed and sleep the day away, but a distraction wasn’t always bad and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>he would worry his family if he didn’t get up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s get you into your boots, then,” Wilbur smiled, shuffling over to the door as Techno began to dress himself with his thick overcoat and fluffy cape. Phil helped Tommy to his feet and guided him to the door, allowing the boy to lean on him as he lifted a foot for Wilbur to slide the boot onto, doing the same with the other side before his father and older brother deemed him worthy enough to exit the house. Tommy would admit that it was quite embarrassing to need help putting on fucking shoes, but he was in pain and he had practically challenged himself to trust his family again because they wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>hurt him again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno made that very clear one long night as Tommy jolted awake from a night terror, pathetic chirps and trills exiting his mouth as he called to a family he wasn’t sure would be there or not. Techno was there. As Tommy sat in his warm embrace, his brother began to apologize. It was quiet and soft and </span>
  <em>
    <span>vulnerable. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. It still hurt to think about, but at least he made it clear that he regretted it, especially since they were all just beginning to mourn the loss of their eldest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He wouldn’t have apologized if you didn’t get hurt. It’s pity. You don’t need their pity. You don’t deserve it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dogs, dogs, dogs, dogs!” Wilbur began to chant as he threw open the door, Phil clipping his own cloak on before resuming his place at Tommy’s side. The boy didn’t need too much help once he gained his balance, but he was still quite unsteady on his feet and was grateful for the warm presence of his father next to him and the feeling of the gentle hand on his arm guiding him out into the cold, arctic air.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t let any of ‘em loose, Wilbur!” Techno called as he took up the rear, shutting the door behind him. Tommy missed the smile that was sent to him, too distracted on just making it down the stairs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No promises!” Wil called back and Tommy let out a surprised laugh, head shooting up to get a look of Techno’s annoyed expression, not at all disappointed when he saw his snout twisted and brows lowered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha!” Tommy pointed, twisted a little to point in the direction that Wilbur disappeared. “You might want to go catch him if you don’t want to have to chase you’re fuckin’ dogs all day.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Techno said nothing as he swept past Tommy and Phil, who continued their journey towards the pasture. His father was murmuring encouraging words to him every time he stumbled and letting out trills of pleasure when he was able to stabilize on his own. It made Tommy’s face heat up, but he melted at each soft spoken words and couldn’t help the feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>safety </span>
  </em>
  <span>that rose into his chest, replacing the ache for a few moments, allowing him to happily revel in the feeling.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The house was left empty as the family headed out to take care of the animals. The morning light filtered in through the windows and cast long, warm rays along the wood inside, settling on a kitchen table that was cluttered with papers that had three different handwritings scribbled over their surfaces. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Tommy recovered upstairs, the rest of the family began to plan for revenge. Bloodlust shone in their eyes and tension rippled through their bodies as they tried to quell the rage long enough to make a coherent plan of attack. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite how many times Tommy said he was fine, the rest of them knew he wasn’t. And they were going to make sure that the person responsible paid for everything that he had ever done to the boy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sending him into exile was one thing but taking away his wings and breaking him down from the inside was something else entirely. He was a shell of who he used to be and his family wanted nothing but that loud and obnoxious boy back. They knew, though, that it would be a while before the Tommy they had grown up with and raised was back. The small sparks of energy and fire in his eyes was enough for now, though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The voices screamed for blood. They screamed for death and pain and </span>
  <em>
    <span>revenge. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in a while, the voices would get what they asked for.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They smiled.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AYYYY I hope you liked it! I was initially going to wait until tomorrow to upload this chapter but I decided to do it today since, man, I have nothing to do here on campus when I don't have homework lol! </p>
<p>Seeing as how I'm beginning to wrap up this little story, the next chapter will probably be a little bit spicy with some action and MAYBE much longer~ That means I might not get to upload next Saturday but I def WILL be working on it! I also just want to end on 8 chapters since I really like that number hoghehso</p>
<p>N e ways! Comments, kudos, and lurkers are greatly appreciated and I really hope you all liked this chapter ~ Have a wonderful day and see you when I update next! &lt;3</p>
<p>also if there are any typos I would very much appreciate it if they are pointed out hehe~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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